Bitter Fruit
by T. Fowler
Summary: After meeting his daughter, Dean realizes that he made a mistake when he sold his soul. Sam and Rachel team with him to get it back. Seventh in the the Rachel/Dean saga. (Captured Soul, Kitsune, Another Kind of Trap, Greater Good, Picking up, Lethe, Bitter Seed). some slash
1. Chapter 1

Dean had known he'd made the worst decision of his life the moment he'd first held his baby girl. She'd been wrapped in an old sweatshirt of his, face streaked with red and gunk. Her face had been screwed up and she'd been screaming her head off. He'd looked down at that tiny face and knew, without a doubt, that he'd been had.

He hadn't let himself believe it before. Sam had been back. He'd been alive. And then the gate to hell had opened and there'd been demons everywhere and then…

Dad. Dad had escaped hell. He'd attacked Azazel and given Dean a clean shot at the son of a bitch that had ruined their lives.

Azazel was dead. Dad was out of hell. And he'd looked at him with such pride in his eyes. Such love. In that moment, basking in the warm glow of his father's pride, Dean had thought maybe he'd done the right thing. He had a year. He'd get Rachel and the baby settled somewhere into a life she could love. He'd get a year to watch her and watch the baby, and, when it was over, Dean would just fade away. He wouldn't even tell her what he'd done. It could happen on a hunt or something. Sam would be able to tell her something. To tell her it was fast.

He'd tell her it was over.

And then, Rachel had handed him his daughter.

One year with her wouldn't be enough. Ten years wouldn't have been either. Dean wanted his life time with this girl. _His_ girl, and he'd given it away.

God, he was stupid. And he didn't know what to do.

* * *

"Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean looked up from Ashley, who was cradled in his arms, sleeping. His shoulders were hunched like he was in pain, and there were unshed tears in his eyes. A few fell when he looked up at her.

Rachel crossed the room to him, pulling her tangled, wet hair out of her face. A tight knot of fear clenched in her chest. Something had happened. She'd left the baby for ten minutes to take a shower and something had happened to her..

But she looked fine when Rachel looked down at her. Instead of the lifeless blue face or blazing yellow eyes that haunted Rachel's dreams, there was just a peaceful, sleeping baby. Perfectly healthy.

"Dean?"

He sniffed. "I fucked up, Rachel."

"What do you mean?" She sank on the bed across from the chair Dean was sitting in. She clenched her fingers in her lap, vaguely aware that she should be reaching for Ashley. She'd been away from her baby for a while now, and a good mother would be reaching for her. Holding her close and cuddling her, feeling warm, happy feelings that babies were supposed to ignite inside a mother.

But she looked fine, and Dean had her, and Rachel needed time away. She needed to know what was wrong with her husband.

"Dean, what happened?"

He let out a long, exhausted breath. "I lied about Sam. I mean, he knows. And Bobby knows. But I lied to you. I've been lying to you about what happened to him before we came to rescue you. And about what I did."

A chill went through her. She'd known the brothers were keeping something from her. Ever since the haze of exhaustion had faded after Ashley's birth, she'd known there was something. She'd just been pretending it wasn't important, wasn't something she had to know. Let Dean have his secrets. Their family was fine. Azazel was dead. It was _over_.

She was such a fool.

"What did you do?" she asked, voice low and hoarse.

He mumbled something almost too low and too fast for her to hear. But she caught the last word.

Soul.

She bit her lip to keep from shouting. You couldn't shout next to a sleeping baby. She had to stay calm.

"Dean. Did you sell your soul?"

He closed his eyes. Nodded once.

" _Why?_ "

"I didn't know what else to do. Sam was dead. You were gone. And our house is next to a crossroad."

Again, she had to fight to keep from shouting. "You made a deal in front of our house?"

He glared at her. "That's not…"

"Everything is the point! Jesus fuck, Dean. Not only did you sell your soul but I've got a demon with access to my house. I need to deal with that if I'm going to take the baby there! When were you going to tell me? We're driving back in two days!" She raked her hands through her hair, head beginning to ache. "I can't believe you. You and your father, just so eager to line up and sacrifice your souls. Why do you think that selling your soul is a solution?"

"I was crazy, all right?" His voice is low, but furious. "Sam was dead. I watched him die because I was seconds too slow. That's how close I was. If I had moved just a few seconds faster, he would have been fine. But he died and I was supposed to protect him! I promised to protect him and I'd failed."

"Protect him, yes, but not at the expense of your soul."

"Even then!"

Ashley jerked in his arms. Her face crumpled and she let out a whimper.

Dean immediately pulled her closed and whispered soothing noises against her ear.

The baby calmed, going ragdoll limp once more.

"Put her down and come into the other room," Rachel said. Even as she rose and stalked out into the front room of their suite, she could see Dean tenderly laying Ashely in the bassinet and kiss her on the head.

Tender. Gentle. Loving. Always doing the little loving gestures that Rachel had to force herself to remember.

Dean came into the front room. "You can call Sam about clearing the demon out. He said he and Nathan will get there tomorrow."

"No." She turned to face him. "No, I want to be the one to do it. I want to have a talk with the asshole that got to you." She rubbed her forehead. "You have ten years, right? This isn't like John where he made a deal and five seconds later was gone?"

The look on her face told her everything.

"Dean."

"I was desperate, Rachel. Out of my mind. I didn't think I could get you and Ashley back. Not on my own. And then, Sam was barely cold and I get a call from the police saying I need to come in. That there was an explosion and you were dead and Nathan was gone and…"

"Why would Azazel kill me after going through all that trouble of getting me pregnant?"

"I wasn't thinking! And even if you weren't dead, you were gone. I wasn't able to find you the first time, and I knew this time I needed Sam. So I let her talk me into it." He threw his hands up "And I thought what she said made sense. I'd have a year with Ashley. I'd have memories of her, but she wouldn't have me. I'd just be a story. She wouldn't know to miss me."

"Because that worked with Sam and his mom." Then, " A year?" She fell onto the couch and bent over, not able to breathe. This was what a broken heart felt like. A hot, tearing pain that never ended, that stole your breathe, that pushed through your throat.

"I thought…" he started, but she cut him off.

"No, you didn't think." Head about to explode from the blood rush, she sat back up. "You felt, and I get that, I get desperate, but Dean…" She rose and went to him. Cupped his face. "You are worth so much more than a year." She kissed him and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "I am going to kill the demon who made you think you weren't worth more. If I could go back and kill Azazel for you, I would. I…" She broke off and shook her head. Kissed him again, lingering.

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered when they broke apart. He rested his forehead against hers.

"I know." She sniffed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I had this plan. I thought… I'd go out on a hunt. Have Sam tell you I was killed. I didn't want to hurt you any more than you'd been hurt."

"Stupid man," she said fondly. "What made you change your mind?"

He smiled, arms tightening around her. "Ashley. I didn't expect to love her so much."

"Seriously? You didn't think you were going to love her as much as you do. You."

He smiled. "I wanted her. I always did. But it's different now. Holding her and seeing her. Knowing that she's real and she's mine. It hurts to think about leaving her. Like I can't breathe. To think about not being there when she grows up." He shrugged, a helpless look on his face. "I thought fatherhood was supposed to make you less selfish, but I can't… I can't give her up."

Rachel nods as if she understood. And she did, sort of. As much as she struggled to connect with Ashley, to really feel as if she loved her, the thought of something happened to Ashley terrified her. It kept her up at nights sitting over the bassinet, counting her breaths. She rarely let Ashley out of eye sight, and even now, she could feel a kind of panicked feeling in the back of her throat with Ashley in the other room.

She was safe. Rachel knew that. No demon could touch her, thanks to the trickster and his mark on Ashely's arm. And it was highly unlikely that something else would happen to her. Bad things happened to babies, but she couldn't live her life living in fear.

"You won't have to give her up. We'll find a way."

"The demon said if I try to get out of the deal, she'd take me early."

"Of course she did. But demons revel in suffering. In anticipation. They'd rather see you try and fail than grab you early. And if we succeed, it can't take you anyway." The reality of what she was saying hit her and she grabbed him, holding him tightly. "You can't go. I need you."

He ran his hand up her back. Kissed her temple. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't apologize. You were manipulated like hell. And they knew exactly what they had to do to get you there."

"Getting the call about your parents so close after Sam…"

"Well," she said, sob in her voice. "At least now I know why they had to die."

His arms tightened. "Rach, I'm so sorry."

She pulled away and wiped her eyes. "No. Dean, it's not your fault, okay?" More tears escaped. She went to the couch and sat down. "I was… I didn't mean it. I don't want you to feel guilty about the dying. It wasn't your fault." She shook her head. "This whole thing was a clusterfuck, but not one of your making."

"Yeah, but sometimes I still think that I never should have…"

"What? Met me? Because that's the only way I can think that all of this could have been avoided. You met me, you cared for me, I was bait."

"There are plenty of women I've met and cared about. Not one thing has ever gone after Cassie." He sat next to her and began running his fingers through her hair, breaking up tangles.

"I should call her," Rachel said. "The last week of dealing with my parents stuff has reminded me the importance of networking." She frowned. "Of course, keeping contact might possibly put her in the path of danger. In the future." With a groan she leaned back. "I did sort of hope it would be over now. Azazel is dead, the baby is born. I'd hoped we could get on with our lives."

"I know." Dean leaned back next to her. He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I did, too."


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel gazed down at Ashley, who was snuggled tightly against her chest, nursing. She hated nursing. It reminded her of what a horrible mother she was. According to everything written ever, this was supposed to be a special, sacred time that filled her with love and reinforced the bond between mother and child. Hell, the whole reason she insisted on breast feeding, even when she'd struggled at the beginning, was because she felt like she needed to prove how much she loved Ashley.

It wasn't working.

"I'm sorry," she said to Ashley, glad that Dean was out working on the car. "But don't think you aren't loved. Your daddy loves you more than anything else on earth. You are the sun and the stars to him." She smiled crookedly. "I think he'd breast feed you if he could. But he's gotta stick with bottles."

Ashley released Rachel's nipple and popped her mouth at Rachel a couple times.

Rachel snorted. "Little fish."

Ashley just tipped her head and stared up at Rachel, breathing heavily, little tongue working at her lower lip.

She smiled again. The baby was so… baby looking. Dean claimed she looked just like Rachel, but to Rachel, Ashley was generic baby. Tiny head and big, dark eyes. She was mostly bald, but had soft wisps of dark hair on the top of her head. Soft, round baby cheeks and little plump baby lips.

She looked intelligent, though. Whenever someone was talking to her, she looked up at them like she was listening. Sometimes, when Rachel or Dean spoke, she'd kick her legs and make little sounds. Like she knew them.

"We haven't even gotten your picture taken yet," Rachel said. Yet another thing she'd failed to do. Her parents had had a professional photographer come over and take pictures of her and Nathan at one week old.

Rachel had been attending her parents funeral when Ashley was one week old.

"So. When we get home, you're getting your picture taken. Before you get too big."

"Ha." Ashely blew all her air out at once, then looked up at Rachel as if for approval.

"Silly girl." She kissed Ashley on the forehead.

Someone knocked on the door.

"One moment, please!" she called out. She'd thought she'd put out the "do not disturb" sign on the knob, but she could have forgotten. It was hard to remember, even though she'd been living at hotels for weeks now. God, she was ready to go home. To live in the house she'd spent months getting ready.

The one with a demon roaming around out front. Yet another thing to check off her list.

She pulled her bra and shirt back over her breast and stood, shifting Ashley to rest against her shoulder. "Agent Hendrickson," she said when she answered the door. "Come in."

He smiled at her and stepped inside. "How are you today, Rachel?"

"I'm good."

"And Ashley?" He bent down slightly and tilted his head, trying to see around her shoulder.

"She just had second breakfast. Or maybe elevenses. What time is it?"

"Almost eleven." He hesitated a minute, then said, "Can I hold her?"

Panic tightened her chest, but Rachel fought it back. It was okay. She trusted this man. He'd known her father for years, he'd even gotten an anti-possession tattoo a few months back when her father had mentioned Dean and Sam's. He was a friend.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure." She handed Ashley to him.

Hendrickson smiled down at Ashley as he went to the couch. "Hello, baby. How are you today? How are you?" He cooed a little at her, then looked up. "I really do want one of these. Which is crazy. I know it's crazy. The world's messed up enough what with thieves and killers. Then you go add demons and ghosts to them and it gets worse. But look at this face." He held Ashley up for her to see. "That little face makes all the darkness worth it." He brought Ashley back down and smiled wistfully. "Just got to get working on finding a mother."

"If you want to go the traditional route." She sat in a nearby chair.

"Think that'd work best in my case. With my hours and caseload." He looked up. "I've got news on your case."

She'd figured as much, but she still shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I know we need to have some sort of cover for what happened, but I really don't want to drag someone's name through the mud. Not if we don't have to."

"Well, we don't. Not exactly. Turns out, this guy was already in the mud." He handed Ashley back Rachel and went back to the door for his suitcase. "This was the body that was recovered at the scene," he said, pulling a photograph. "Was this the man who Azazel possessed?"

She looked down at the picture, at the familiar face, minus yellow eyes. Once, he'd been so full of power and vitality. Here, he was lying on a slab, pale. Human.

Dead.

"Yeah," she said softly. "This was him."

Hendrickson nodded and took the picture back. He was good at this, at showing her just enough without overwhelming her. It was why her father had trusted him in the first place.

They'd crossed paths years ago while her father was helping a hunter track a shapeshifter in Atlanta. Much like the shapeshifter Dean had hunted, this one had gotten crafty and managed to frame the hunter for a murder. Hendrickson had been the lead investigator.

Something about him had made her father trust him. He'd told Hendrickson everything, about the supernatural world, his family's history, about shapeshifters. Hendrickson had, of course, thought Rachel's father was crazy, until the shapeshifter struck again. And then again, this time using Hendrickson's face.

He'd been taking on supernatural cases ever since then. In fact, he was the one who'd managed to clear Dean's name. Not just for St. Louis, but for everything. It was a huge relief not to have that hanging over their heads.

Of course, being a fugitive would be better than having an expiration date on one's soul, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"I managed to track him down. Turns out, he was a janitor at a hospital in Shiloh County."

Rachel nodded. "That's where we first encountered him. In that body." She shook her head. "I never got a good look at him."

"His name was Elliot Westin. He had a record. One consistent with what we're saying he did to you."

"Kidnapping and forcing to give birth in a cemetery? That's a pretty wild history."

He sighed. "I'm trying to be circumspect, Rachel."

"And I'm trying to tell you I'm not fragile." She got up and went to the coffee table, where Ashley's baby seat was set up. After strapping Ashley in, she turned back. "So, he was a rapist?"

"One conviction. But he was suspected in several other cases. The one he was convicted involved false imprisonment. He kept the girl in his apartment for a few days. So we're not talking about a good man, Rachel."

"No." She rubbed her forehead. "Hell, Azazel might have gotten part of the idea from this guy." She sat back down. "Did he have family?"

"No. But here's the thing."

"Oh great."

Hendrickson gave a half smile. "I don't know if Azazel stayed with him all those months, or if Westin just remembered you, but there are pictures of you in his apartment. From before and after your abduction."

"What?"

He shrugged. "You were nearby. You moved a few towns over. He found you somehow and he followed you." He spread his hand. "He wrote our story for us. He saw you at the hospital when you were originally there, tracked you down and kidnapped you, raped you, let you go, then took you again when you were due."

"And taking me to Wyoming? Where does that come in?"

"Man was devil worshiper. He had some _Rosemary's Baby_ delusions, did some research about the local legends of the place, took you there to have Satan's baby."

"And my parents?"

"It was a gas leak," Hendrickson said. "I mean, sabotage, but it was easy to do."

"Add gas leak to my ever growing list of things to worry about," Rachel sighed. She leaned back in her chair. "So. Case closed? Man was a real life lunatic, in addition to being possessed by Azazel. No more worries."

"I'm not saying that," Hendrickson said. "I don't expect any of this to make you feel better. It's a crappy situation. And it's disturbing knowing that the reason you don't have to worry about an innocent man is that he wasn't innocent."

"If it wasn't Azazel taking the pictures."

"He was still a creep before Azazel had even seen him."

The door opened. "Hey, Victor," Dean said. "What's up?"

"I was just explaining to Rachel that the man Azazel possessed was a class one asshole, and we don't have to worry about dirtying a good name."

Dean came over and sat on the arm of Rachel's chair. "How bad?"

"Bad enough. I can give you the run down later."

"Yeah, no problem."

"You two still taking off tomorrow?"

Dean glanced down at Rachel. "Everything wrapped up on your end?"

"Saw the lawyers this morning. All the most pressing of my parents and grandparents affairs are tied up. We are free to leave."

"And you saw Doctor Flynn?"

She sighed. "Yes. We are ready to go."

She watched at Hendrickson and Dean exchanged looks.

"I should get going. I've got to write up this report and then work on another case."

"Never ends, huh?"

"Nope." He gathered his belongings and stood. "Look, you two. You ever need anything, you give me a call. Next time you land in jail, Dean, call me. Don't screw around."

"Your lack of faith in me hurts, Victor," Dean said, giving him his best 'who me?' look. "But, yeah, we'll call. Nice to have the law working on our side for once."

Victor snorted. "Just, you know. Don't push it. Take care of yourself, Rachel."

She smiled at him without getting up and held out her hand. "Thanks for all your help."

He squeezed it, then left.

"Up," Dean said. He tugged Rachel out of the chair and took her place before pulling her back down onto his lap. "What'd the doctor say?"

She sighed and let her head loll against his shoulder, nose pressed against his neck. "He said he thinks I should go on anti-depressants because, well. My life went to hell and I had a baby on top of it. He thinks it'll be easier to get through the next few months, that there's basically no way I don't have post-partum depression, and it'd be better for both me and Ashley."

"And did you get the pills?"

Rachel shrugged. "Not yet."

"Why not?"

"He said that they're safe for the baby. Mostly. In most cases. But there's always a slim chance for side effects if I still breast feed."

He rubbed his hand up her back. "Okay. So if that worries you, we can switch to formula. Sam did fine on it."

"Yeah, but, studies show that babies who are breast fed are less likely to have their demon half take over and terrorize everyone."

He snorted. "I'd like to resubmit Sam as evidence to the contrary." He kissed her forehead. "Beside, didn't the trickster say that she wasn't half demon? She's full human with just a candy coating of demon? Surely that coating is gone now that Azazel is dead."

"I can't be sure."

"You seemed sure when the trickster told you."

"But now Ashley is here, and I can't be sure."

Dean ran his fingers through her hair. "What about that legend that Dr. Flynn told us about? The cat-eyed boy? I'm sure that kid was breast fed, and he still took off for his father in the end. I think you're worrying about things that you don't need to worry about, Rachel."

"But what if I'm not good enough?" she whispered.

He pulled her head back and looked at her. "Babe, there is no way you aren't good enough. You care for her. You do so much for her already. But you need to do something for yourself." He gave her a ghost smile and said, "You know there's a chance you might have to do this on your own. Make it easier on yourself."

"But…"

"Rachel."

She knew when she had lost. And she wasn't exactly opposed to the idea. It'd only been two weeks, but she was so tired of not being able to feel. Like she was walking around in a fog, just floating on 'okay' but never getting anywhere else. She wasn't even feeling sad. Oh, yeah, she'd cried about her parents and missed them, but there was just an overall feeling of 'meh' when she tried to think about it. Like the thoughts and emotions skittered away because she was broken.

"Maybe I'll be able to love Ashley if I take them," she whispered, hoping that Dean didn't hear her.

His arms tightened around her. "You love her, Rach. You don't see the way you are with her, but I do. You love her just fine."

She wished she believed him.

* * *

A/N: This series will be slow to update, but I'll do my best to keep up with it. Also, I stopped watching after season 5, so any canon after that date won't be included.


	3. Chapter 3

A ringing phone brought Sam from a deep sleep to half awareness. He lay in bed, feeling warm and cozy, trying to figure out what was going on. What was ringing and what he was supposed to do about it. It seemed like he should know, but sleep beckoned.

He rolled over and tucked his face in the back of Nathan's neck.

"Get the phone," Nathan muttered.

"What?"

"Your stupid brother is calling at oh dark fucking early. Answer it." He elbowed Sam in the ribs.

With a groan, he rolled over and flailed on the nightstand. He finally found the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

It kept ringing.

Opening his eyes, Sam squinted until he found the answer button. "What the hell, dude?"

"Sorry, I know. Time difference. But I wanted to call you before we got on the road."

"You shouldn't have."

"Did you get the crossroad squared away?"

Apparently they were going to have this conversation right now, instead of after coffee and the sun. He rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Nathan warded it off yesterday, so the demon won't be able to do deals away from it. And since we're the only house for a mile, we should be okay. This isn't like Greenwood, where the bar was on the crossroads. The locals will have to seek it out if they want to deal; it can't go to them." He sat up, leaning against the headboard. "You sure you don't want us to exorcise it?"

Dean sighed. "No. Rachel said she wants to talk to it."

"Because that sounds like a good idea."

"Oh, no, I know it's a fucking awful plan. But she's pretty adamant about it. Says it the first step in breaking the contract, although I don't know how she figures that. No way the demon is going to let me out of it."

Sam frowned pensively. "Maybe there's something I can do."

"You are not trading your soul for Dean's," Nathan said, rolling over. "In fact, no more selling souls. That goes for you, too, Dean."

"Too late," Dean responded, but Sam neglected to pass his comment along. "She wants Nathan and you to start researching crossroads demons."

"Oh, that's great, considering the entire living room and study is filled with unopened boxes of books that we need to shelf." He rubbed his eyes. "Oh, and as a side note, Nathan has now realized that scanning every single book on the supernatural into Rachel's program is unfeasible, so it's back to being a straight up database. But, we haven't touched it because we're trying to unpack the books. You know, Rachel didn't buy us a bed, but she bought about two thousand dollars' worth of books?"

"Yeah, you told me that. But you have a bed now, right?"

Sam shifted in his extremely comfortable extra-long, extra wide mattress. "Yes, I do. We do, I mean," because that was something he needed to get used to saying. He and Nathan were living together, they cohabited, they bought the bed together. It was their bed, not his.

It was still weird.

"Anything specific she wants us to look for about crossroad demons? Or just everything in general."

"She mentioned something about wanting to know who was in charge. Is there a head demon, or are they all freelance? And anything about the contracts themselves."

Sam nodded. "Got it. How long do you think the drive will take?"

"That sort of depends on Ashley. She sleeps a lot, and she seems to sleep well in the car, but, well. We'll see."

"And Ashely's doing well?"

"She said her first word. It was gah." He only half sounded like he was kidding.

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, your kid's a genius."

"Takes after her mom. Okay, I've gotta go."

"Take care and drive safe."

"Sap." Dean hung up.

Sam put his phone back on the nightstand, then slid back underneath the covers. Nathan snuggled up to him right away, resting his head on Sam's shoulder and sliding his leg between Sam's.

"They leaving now?"

"That's what it sounded like. Soon we will have Rachel to help unpack the books and tell us we've shelved the ones we did wrong."

"Yay." He kissed Sam's collar bone. "As long as she sounds excited about something, I'm game. It scares me how dead she sounds lately."

"Well. She's been through a lot." He ran his hand up Nathan's back, slowing to knead out tight spots he felt through his tee shirt. "Plus, she's got pregnancy hormones flooding through her." He kissed Nathan's forehead. "You sounded the same way after you lost your eyes. Eventually, you started sounding better. So will she."

"What about you?" He tilted his head back and looked at Sam. Or, rather, looked like he was looking at Sam. The eyes were so realistic, that sometimes Sam forgot.

"What about me?"

"You died," Nathan said bluntly. He rubbed his hand over Sam's heart. "You seem okay with that. It's… I don't know. Seems like a lot to deal with."

Sam frowned and took Nathan's hand. Truth was, dying wasn't something he thought about a lot. His mind kept shying away from it. It was weird. He remembered when Dean had almost died, how he said that he felt dirty and dead after. Sam didn't feel it. He felt fine. Like it had happened to someone else.

It probably made him really fucked up. But, honestly, he had more important things to worry about.

"I'm more worried about Dean," he said. "Me dying… that's over. I'm alive now. I just need to figure out a way to save Dean. That's all that matters."

Nathan smirked. "Way to make a guy feel special."

Sam rolled his eyes. He moved and lay on top of Nathan, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm not saying that you don't matter," he said, teasing his mouth over Nathan's. "But he's my brother."

"You and your brother are dangerously codependent."

"Says the man who is now living in his sister's house."

Nathan wrapped his legs around Sam's waist. "Okay, this conversation is boring. Entertain me."

Sam set about doing just that.

* * *

Rachel's house had been a disaster from the start. She'd bought it on a whim after only seeing it once. The only reason she knew about it was because Bobby had mentioned his wife had wanted it years before. It'd been falling down and rotting. The floor had caved in at one portion and the stairs had been unsafe for anyone to go on. Meg had managed to take out one of the walls when she'd possessed Sam. The yard had been dead. One of the trees had its roots grow into the plumbing. The septic tank had been a nightmare. And, to top it all off, it was in the middle of South Dakota. Yes, that put them near Bobby but, at the time of purchase, Rachel and Nathan had had two perfectly decent, rich parents living in Connecticut.

Sam wouldn't have minded living in Connecticut.

In short, everything about the purchase had been rash and nonsensical, and Sam had seriously been afraid the baby had short circuited something in Rachel's brain.

But, despite all that, Sam was now on board. The contractor Rachel had hired had been brilliant. They'd completely redone the house, top to bottom. Not only was it habitable, it was comfortable. Big, airy rooms with large windows and lots of light. A tricked out entertainment center, built in bookshelves, and a breakfast nook. The yard had been landscaped and the septic tank fixed. The trees that had been clogging plumbing had been removed and the ones that were left were thriving. There was even a swing on the front porch.

Basically, it was everything Sam had ever wanted growing up.

The part he liked the best, though, was how isolated from other people it was. As a kid, the isolation would have only served to underlie how different his family was, but now it worked. The house was about two miles from Bobby's and about seven from town. Bobby was the nearest house. No one was around. After being on road, living out of hotel rooms all his life, Sam liked the space. He felt like he could breathe.

Which was why, about two miles into his jog, he knew something was wrong. There was a prickling at the back of his neck, like he was being watched.

He stopped and looked around. All around him was open space interspersed by a few trees. Nowhere for someone to hide. So what…

Then he saw her. A blonde woman, standing on the side of the road watching him.

"Hello, Sam," she said when their eyes met.

"Who are you?"

"My name's Ruby." She took a step towards him. "You know the hunt's not over, right? You and your brother let a whole mess of demons out of hell. That's going to need to be take care of."

"Are you a hunter?"

She smirked. "Something like that."

"Why are you following me?"

"I'm interested in you."

He frowned and moved closer to her, wary. "Why?"

She looked him up and down, smile deepening. "Because you're tall. I love tall men." She shrugged. "Then there's the whole anti-Christ thing."

His heart gave a jolt, like it sometimes did when his mind skirted too close to what Azazel had revealed to him.

But it wasn't true. Or, even if it was true, it didn't matter. He wasn't a demon, demon blood or no. And he wasn't the anti-Christ. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know. Generation of psychic kids. Yellow-Eyed demon rounds you up. Celebrity death match ensues." She gestured to him. "You're the sole survivor."

"How do you know all that?" No one knew about that night, not outside his family. Everyone who'd been involved was dead.

"I've got my sources," she answered.

"What sources? No one left that cemetery alive to tell you."

She smirked again, and her eyes flashed black. "You so sure about that, Sam?"

"Shit." Sam stumbled back a few steps and fumbled at the pocket of his shorts. Nathan had insisted they all begin to carry around small vials of holy water. With so many demons that escaped hell, they never knew when they might run into one. They had to be prepared.

He pulled out the vial and flipped the cap.

Ruby held her hands up and lowered her head, looking contrite and submissive. "Don't bother with the holy water. I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help."

"Why should I believe you?"

"I'm telling the truth." She held up her fingers in the Girl Scout salute. "Not all demons are the same. Most of them are. But some of us like this world the way it is. Like people the way they are. I'm invested in keeping it the way it is. I don't particularly want the war that's coming."

He clenched his hand around the holy water. "What war?"

She shrugged. "That's just the thing. Azazel had plans. There are plans for you. Beyond what he wanted, beyond his vision of taking over everything."

"But it's over now. He lost."

"He didn't lose. Well. He did, what with his clever little plan to hide inside Rachel's baby. He did that because he found out that after opening the gate to hell, he was done. His part was played."

"His part in what?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "That, I'm not sure. I'm a low level demon. A grunt. All I was told was that there was a leader coming out of Azazel's children. He was going to be the head of the army, and we were going to follow him. Well, you're the only one left, Sam. Congratulations, you're it."

Sam felt ill. He was cold in the warm morning sun, sweat beading on his forehead and slicking his palms. "I'm not leading anything. If you're here to follow…"

Ruby laughed. "I'm not interested in a war, Sam. I told you, I like earth the way it is. But you got a target on your back, whether you want one or not. Every demon with illusions of power is going to be coming after you. There's chaos all around you. A war without a front. Hundreds of demons trying to grab power." She shook her head. "I know bowing out sounds great, but it's not going to happen."

"Well, don't worry about me. I've made it this far without your help. I can take on a few demons."

"Sam. You couldn't even take on Azazel's children without your brother selling his soul." She tilted her head. "What, do you think Nathan's going to step up to the plate for you next? Rachel? No offense, but I don't think anyone is stupid enough to do what your brother did."

And there was the spiraling, out of control feeling Sam had been trying to avoid. That sharp, sinking sensation that reminded him it was dead, he shouldn't be here. If it hadn't been for Dean, Sam would be six feet under right now, or just a cloud of ash.

It felt like a sucker punch to the gut. It was all he could do not to bend over just to catch his breath.

He managed not to. He couldn't show that weakness. "So, what? You telling me that you'll sacrifice yourself for me?"

"No one will have to sacrifice anything, Sam. Trust me." She took a few steps closer to him. "I can help you with your brother. Help you find out how to save him."

"Why?"

"Because you're the best bet for stopping this war before it starts. And I need you on board."

He shook his head. "Believe me, Ruby. I don't need a demon on my side, encouraging me to circumvent a war between demons and humans. It's what I do."

"Oh really?" she shot back. "Then why are you here playing house with your optically challenged boyfriend instead of cleaning up some of the damage that Azazel caused? Hundreds of demons escaped from hell when that gate opened, and you're here shelving books."

It took all his self-control not to toss the holy water and start exorcising right there. He'd thought Nathan had warded the house against demons already, but this one knew what was going on inside his house. Apparently, they weren't as isolated as Sam had hoped.

"I'm not just going to wander around the country, hoping to stumble on to demons anymore. If something comes up, I'll deal with it."

"Then you might want to check out Oak Park, Illinois."

He frowned. "What's going on there?"

"Rumor is, the seven deadly sins are hanging around there," she answered. "I think that's slightly more important than the Dewey decimal system."

"The seven deadly sins?"

"You know, Pride, Sloth, Envy, blah blah? They aren't concepts, they're demons. In the old days, they roamed around in a pack, making friends and influencing people. They were banished to hell thousands of years ago, but they blew out when the gate . Now they're are terrorizing the town." She gave him a withering look. "If that's not your kind of job, at least you and your boytoy might want to call the hunters on hand and give them a heads up."

"But…"

She smirked. "Give Nathan a kiss for me." And she disappeared, teleporting away.

"Shit."


	4. Chapter 4

Two hours and four minutes after her last feeding, Ashley began to cry.

"I'm telling you, she's being disturbingly regular," Rachel said as Dean pulled off the highway and into the nearest town.

"And I'm telling you that you're being paranoid. Everyone said that she'd need to eat around every two hours. There's nothing weird about that."

"But it's almost exactly two hours. Every two hours. With just a few minutes variance." She shook her head as she plotted the latest data point on her graph. "It's too regular."

Dean sighed. "I wish you would stop collecting data on our daughter. It's seriously going to fuck her up when she gets over."

Rachel let out a joyless little laugh. "Trust me, Dean, out of everything going on in her life, me tracking her feeding schedule is hardly going to be the straw for her." But, interestingly enough, it was Dean's straw. Rachel had admitted she didn't think she loved the baby, and Dean had barely batted an eye. He hadn't believed her, but he'd accepted it quite calmly.

But he'd been nonstop grousing since Rachel had become disbelieving enough of Ashely to start tracking how often she cried.

Dean's skepticism or not, Ashley was a suspiciously easy baby. She cried when she was hungry, needed changed, or needed to be taken out of her car seat. She didn't scream all night, she didn't have trouble sleeping, she didn't cry herself sick. Sure, she kept Rachel and Dean just exhausted enough that at every diner they stopped at, they got a lot of cooing over their "new parent daze", and this drive was taken three times as long because they had to stop so much, but Rachel suspected it should be worse. All she'd read while she was pregnant was how hard the first month was. She'd read horror stories of babies that wouldn't stop crying, that wouldn't tolerate being put down, that needed to eat constantly.

And yet, she had a very regular baby. A baby that she could almost set her watch to.

Suspicious.

"I just wonder if the trickster did something to her."

"And why would he do that? Seems to me, a trickster would want to run new parents ragged, just for fun. Even ones he helped out."

She shrugged and adjusted her bra strap, feeling her breasts begin to respond to the crying baby. "Pull over soon, please." She tugged at the front of her bra, careful not to unsnap it. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Cicero, Indiana. I'm thinking we should stop for the night. I'm exhausted."

"Me, too. Look, there's a park." She nodded out the window. "I can feed and change her there, and then we can find a hotel."

"Yeah, no problem." He pulled into the parking lot.

Together, they pulled the baby seat from the back of the Impala, Dean carrying it to the nearest picnic bench while Rachel took the diaper bag. Breasts aching, Rachel quickly undid her top, took Ashely from Dean, and brought her to her breast.

"Give me a blanket, okay. I don't want to flash half the park."

Dean passed on over, then sat next to Rachel. "You know, I know someone around here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Her name's Lisa Braeden. Met her about eight, nine years ago."

"Wow. And you remember her name?"

Dean shrugged and ducked his head. "She was… different. Not like Cassie, but not like the rest. We spent the weekend together, and it was… It was nice."

Rachel tilted her head. "While we're here, you want to look her up?"

"What?" He sounded affronted. "What would I do? I'm married."

She smiled, a wave of fondness washing over her. "You could just say hi. See how she's doing. Catch up on old times."

He shrugged. "It's not like there's a whole lot to catch up on. 'Oh, hey Lisa, remember that weekend we spent together? Yeah? Well, great. Nice seeing you."

"Dean?"

Dean's head whipped around so fast, Rachel thought he was going to break it. He jumped up from the picnic bench so quickly, you'd have thought a demon had shouted his name.

"Lisa?" Holy shit, I was just telling Rachel about you!" He grinned at her, obviously not seeing the kid standing right behind her. Either that, or not connecting them.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

There was an awkward moment when it looked like neither of them knew if they should hug or shake hands. They both sort of moved in towards each other, then back, before Lisa looked at Rachel and gave her an embarrassed smile. "I guess you're Rachel."

"Yes, I am. Nice to meet you." She pulled Ashley tighter to her body with her left arm and held out her right to shake.

"We're, uh. Traveling," Dean said. "Just passing through. We've been on the road for hours and Ashley needed a break."

"Ashley?"

Dean beamed. "Rach?"

Rachel pulled the blanket down and pulled turned to Lisa could see Ashely's face. She figured that since Lisa was obviously a mother, she'd understand if Rachel flashed her a bit.

Dean ran his hand over Ashley's head. "This is Ashley Adams-Winchester."

"She's adorable!" Lisa cooed, because she was obviously very polite. "How old is she?"

"About two weeks." He bent down to kiss Ashley's forehead. On his way back up, he pressed a kiss against Rachel's cheek, too. He'd become more affectionate since Ashely was born, and Rachel wasn't sure if it was fatherly affection flowing over or because of his looming death sentence.

"You're traveling with a two week old baby?" She looked between him and Rachel. "No offense, but are you two crazy? I could barely get out of the house when Ben was two weeks. Where are you going?"

"South Dakota," Rachel answered. "And, yes, we're insane. But I'm tired of living out of a hotel room, and I wanted to get home, so…"

Lisa's face turned sympathetic. "Were you out of town and she came early? She looks good. Healthy." She sat next to Rachel, taking Dean's seat.

Her son sighed and fingered the hand held game console he was holding.

Rachel shook her head, feeling beyond exhausted. She felt old and creaky and sweaty and dirty. Especially next to Lisa, who looked as if she'd just stepped out of a magazine, all styled hair and bright, white teeth.

"It's complicated. But, uh. Well, my parents passed away right before Ashley was born. We went to the funeral, and then I've been dealing with the estate since then."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry." Lisa put her hand on Rachel's leg. "Are you doing okay?"

No, she wanted to say, and almost did because Lisa was so warm and sincere in her sympathy. But she was a stranger, and it would be unfair to unload on a favor. "I'm fine."

Lisa's dark brown eyes shown with compassion. She rubbed Rachel's arm. "When Ben was born, I was a mess for the first two months. The first month was the worst. And my mother was there to help me." She looked at Dean, then back at Rachel. "I live down the street. Why don't you guys come over. Get out of the sun, get some rest, feed her inside before you get back on the road."

"Oh, we were actually going to stay overnight," Dean said.

"Yeah, we'll get a hotel."

"Do you have one yet?"

They shook their heads.

Lisa stood and picked up the diaper bag. "Come to my place and rest. You can get a room after Ashely's been fed and changed. You'll feel better."

"But Mom. What about my party?"

Lisa shouldered the bag. "Ben, they won't stop your party. The more the merrier. Ben's having his birthday party today," she said.

Dean clapped Ben on the shoulder. "Happy birthday. How old are you?"

Ben puffed out his chest. "Eight."

Rachel watched at Dean started to reply, then froze. She could see the math flash across his face . "Eight?" He looked at Lisa.

Lisa missed the look as she helped Rachel to her feet, so Rachel shot a look of her own at Dean and shook her head. Even if he was Ben's father—as the timing would seem to indicate—asking in front of Ben was not okay.

Dean got the message and swallowed back his question.

More than the answer, Rachel wondered what Dean wanted the answer to be. On the one hand, finding out you had an eight year old kid was not something either of them wanted. On the other hand, it'd be nice for Dean to actually have a child of his own, especially if they weren't able to get his soul back. For legacy's sake.

Still, Rachel hoped rather fervently that Ben's age was only a coincidence. After all, Dean had been going through a wild phase eight years ago; with any lucky, Lisa would have been, too.

* * *

Rachel had thought she and Dean would be at Lisa's a half hour. Maybe an hour, tops. She'd feed Ashley, get her changed, Dean would discreetly (for Dean) ask if Ben was his, they'd sort out what to do I he was, and then he and Rachel would retreat to the nearest hotel to recover.

Which was why Rachel was a little disoriented when she woke up and the clock said that four hours had passed.

She groaned and rubbed her eyes. There was a vague memory of her feeding Ashley in the living room and things going hazy around her. She sort of remembered Dean taking Ashley while Lisa led Rachel down the hall to the guest bedroom.

Where, apparently, she passed out and slept through Ashely's regular feeding. Which meant that Dean must have broken out one of the bottles she'd pumped before that morning. Meaning sleep.

When she left the guest room to find a bathroom, she heard sounds of a party going on. Oh, poor Ben, having party crashers. She hoped Dean and Ashley were staying out of the way and letting the boy have his spotlight.

In the bathroom, she washed her face and ran her fingers through her hair before braiding it back. There were a few bobby pins in her pockets, so she pinned her braid up, hoping to hide how lank and dull her hair was from being in the car all day. She'd never minded driving before the baby, but on this trip, she'd felt sweaty and sticky the entire time. She just wanted to be home.

"Rachel, you're up!" Lisa grinned when Rachel entered the kitchen. "Feel better?"

"Yeah, thanks." She ducked her head. "Sorry about that."

Lisa waved her hands. "Trust me, I understand. Do you want something to drink?"

"Just some water."

She grabbed a glass and stuck it under the sink. "Dean's out back with Ashley. He fed her a couple hours ago."

Rachel took the water and drank some. "She'll probably need to be fed again. That baby is really. Well. She's a baby." But instead of heading out back, she sat at the breakfast bar and pulled the bag of chips toward her.

Lisa smile. "There are burgers and cake out back, too. Please, make yourself at home. It's a party."

"I'll go out in a second. I just need to sit for a minute."

"Take all the time you need."

Rachel sighed and rubbed her eyes. "No offense, but why are you being so nice to me? You don't know me. At all. And yet you invited me into your house during your son's birthday party." She raised her eyebrows and looked up at Lisa. "Unless, you're softening me up for a blow."

"No." She came to the other side of the breakfast bar and leaned over. "Dean already asked about Ben. He is not Ben's father. Trust me, I had a blood test done. Ben's father already knows about him." She reached out and touched Rachel's hands. "My mother died last year. I know how hard it is to lose a parent. And how hard it is to be a parent. And Dean was, well. I just knew him for a weekend, but he was really special. He wouldn't be someone who wasn't a special as he was."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Please."

"Okay, then. I'm a sucker for little baby girls with big brown eyes." Lisa smiled. "Your baby is gorgeous. I just wanted to make sure she was fine." Her eyes slid suddenly past Rachel and her face changed. "Annette." She came around the breakfast bar and embraced a careworn woman who'd come up behind Rachel. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine."

Lisa clearly bought that as much as she'd bought Rachel's 'fine' back at the park. She tilted her head and said, "Are you sure about that?"

Annette glanced quickly at Rachel, then back at Lisa She attempted a smile. "Well, you know. ... I just... never mind."

"What is it?" When Annette looked back at Rachel, Lisa said, "This is my friend, Rachel. Annette just lost her ex-husband."

"I'm so sorry. How did it happen?"

A tear slid from her eye, but it was quickly wiped away. "He had an accident at home. He fell on his power saw. But I'm more worried about Katie," she said to Lisa. "I think there might be something ... wrong with her."

"Of course. She just lost her dad."

More tears welled up. "No. That – that's not what I'm talking about. There is something really ... wrong ... with her." She looked out the window, where a little girl with brown hair stood, staring out, expressionless, at the party.

Rachel frowned. Kids were everywhere out there, running around, but this kid just stood there. She didn't even look sad. Not like she was withdrawn or depressed. More like she… wasn't there. Or was above it all. Indifferent.

Alien.

"I'm not sure that Katie is... Katie."

"What?"

"I'm not sure that's my daughter."

Lisa took step back from her friend, face hard. "Look, I know you're grieving, but you can't…"

"Why not?" Rachel interrupted.

"What?" Annette looked over at Rachel.

"Why don't you think that's your daughter?" She slid off the stool and stepped next to Lisa.

Annette shook her head and wiped her eyes again. "I don't know. Ever since the night her father died, she's… she's talked differently. Moved differently. She wants to play, but her voice is flat. She says she loves me, but there's no feeling behind it. She's just… different."

"She's depressed," Lisa said.

"That's not it!" Annette shouted.

"Did she change before or after your husband died?"

"I'm not sure. The next day. No. The night he died, she was supposed to stay with him. But she insisted she come back home. Threw a big fit. She usually loves going over to be with him, but she just couldn't that night, and wouldn't explain why. And ever since then…" Her face crumpled. "She scares me. That's not my little girl."

Rachel put her hand on the woman's arm. "Have you seen her in the mirror? Seen her reflection?"

Annette frowned. "What? I don't… What do you mean?"

"Have there been any other deaths in the neighborhood?" She turned to Lisa, who was glaring at her like Rachel had just cursed her mother's grave.

"Actually, yes," Lisa said, voice flat and hard. "We've had a run of bad luck."

"Like what?"

"Um… Lynn Casey's husband fell from a ladder. One family's babysitter drowned in the Jacuzzi. Someone was hit by a car recently. It's weird and unfortunate, but your daughter is not some stranger."

A baby cry cut through the sound of kids playing. Rachel stepped back from Lisa and Annette. "That's my cue. Annette, I'm sorry about your loss." She turned and went to the backyard.

As she passed Katie, she glanced back, hoping to catch the child's reflection on the sliding glass door. Unfortunately, the girl was at the wrong angle, and seconds later, Annette called Katie to go.

"Hey, Rach," Dean said, bouncing Ashley. "Sleep well?"

She took Ashley from Dean. "There's a job here."

"What?"

Not caring if she flashed half the party, Rachel undid her top and stuck Ashley on her breast. For the first time in weeks, she felt the thrum of purpose running through her. "We need to get a hotel and start researching. I think there are changelings in the neighborhood."


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Rachel was lying in bed dozing when her phone rang. Without opening her yes, she reached for it and answered. "Hey, Nathan."

"Hey, Rach. What's up?"

"You know. The usual. Poopy diapers, endless feedings, changelings."

"What?"

"Not Ashely," she reassured him quickly. "Ashley's fine. But Dean and I stopped off in Cicero and ran into an old friend of his. Long story short, there are changelings in her neighborhood."

"Changelings, man. What are they doing?"

"Besides feeding off the synovial fluid of the mothers? They're killing off anyone who might stand between them and their food source. I met a woman whose ex-husband fell on his power saw. And she's all distraught because she knows something is wrong with her daughter, but doesn't know what. Well, no, she does know what. She knows that Katie isn't hers. But she can't prove it."

"Did you see it?"

She shook her head. "Not the actual changeling. Not in its changeling form. I saw the little girl, though. She was… weird. Alien. She just stood there, watching the kids play like she had no idea how to even be one. And no interest in being on, either."

There was a brief silence, then Nathan said, "Do you know how to kill it? Them?"

"Fire should do it."

"So you're going to find all the changelings, drag them outside and kill them? That'll go over wonderfully."

"Oh, we're already popular. Lisa, Dean's friend, is angry that I encouraged Annette in her delusions. She didn't quite kick us out of her house, but she was a lot less friendly than she'd been when we met her."

"So, she's not a hunter?"

Rachel smiled. "No, she's one of Dean's old one night stands. A special one. Anyway, the lore that I found says that if you kill the mother changeling, all the kids die."

"Okay, but what about the real children? Are they still alive?"

"They should be. They get snatched from the house, the changelings keep them alive to steal their form, and the slowly feed on the mothers. Tomorrow, we're going to scout around and see if we can figure out where the children are being kept. Then, Dean will go after the mother."

"And you?"

"Will be waiting with Ashley to get the all clear." She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed and looked into Ashley's bassinet.

Ashley was sound asleep, breathing steadily. She reached inside the bassinet and rubbed her finger over Ashley's tiny hand. "I feel like I can't let her out of my sight, even though we have all the windows and doors lined with salt."

"You need iron."

"Yeah we wrapped up an iron knife and tapped it under the bassinette."

"Then you should be fine. No need to stay up all night."

Rachel groaned and lay back on the bed. "It's fine. I'll be up every few hours anyway. And Dean gets up, too. The combination of salt, iron, and feedings should do it."

"So," Nathan said, voice changing from business to gossip mode. "What's his old flame like, anyway?"

She rolled her eyes. "About what you'd expect. Tall, gorgeous. She's a yoga teacher, so she's very flexible and fit. But she's also very kind. She invited us into her house even though she hasn't seen Dean in eight years and didn't know me at all."

"You don't have to like all of Dean's old lovers."

"I have no reason to dislike her. And she let me take a nap at her house. The only problem is we ticked her off. But it's not like I want to be friends with her or anything. And I think it's good for Dean to remember reasons that he should live."

As if on cue, the door to the bathroom opened and Dean came out.

Rachel smiled at him, then changed the subject with Nathan. "Found out anything about crossroad demons?"

Nathan made a sort of moan. "Not exactly. I was all set to start researching when Sam got another job. So what do you know about the seven deadly sins?"

"I'm guessing from the question that they're not abstract concepts."

"Nope. They are actual, real demons. They escaped from hell when the gate opened, and started going around infecting people. Sam and Bobby managed to take down Sloth and Envy yesterday. They're working the rest right now with another hunter."

"And you?"

He sighed. "I am safe in the hotel room, which is warded against demons, holed up with Ginger. I told them it would be better just to leave me at home, but Sam insisted I come with them."

"You know you're not ready to live on your own yet, not even for a few days. It's better that you're with him."

Dean climbed onto the bed. Rachel immediately snuggled up to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I know." He sighed again. "This is going to be a problem, Rachel. All these demons? And we don't have a way to kill them."

"We can exorcise them."

"It's not enough. How many gates to hell are there?"

"At least two. There's the one in Wyoming and the one where Jo's dad was killed."

Dean shot her a look, so she mouthed, "Gates to hell," at him.

"There's got to be more. And not just in America. What's to stop other gates from being opened and more demons from escaping?"

"Azazel spent a long time setting up opening the gate he did. It can't be that easy."

"That particular one was pretty challenging, though, what with the devil's trap."

"So why did he choose that one if there are easier ones?" She shook her head. "Let's just, for our sanity, assume that it's not easy to open a gate to hell. So we don't have to worry about one being open every few days. So, exorcising demons is our best bet."

"I guess."

"But, we should see if we can get the Colt working again. I don't like the idea of killing the demon's host, but sometimes, we're going to have to. There must be some trick to it. Samuel Colt couldn't have made a gun that only had a limited amount of bullets." She rubbed her eyes. "Have you ever run across any spells that mention how to kill demons?"

"I've never looked. Demons were rare, why bother?"

"They're not rare anymore."

"Oh. Speaking of, Sam's got a demon admirer. Goes by the name of Ruby. She's the one who tipped us off to the seven sin demons."

"Have you met her?"

"No. But Sam says that she wants to help keep the world the way it is. That not a demons are the same, there's a war coming…"

"Still?"

"Azazel was just a small part in the war. We didn't stop it when we killed him."

"Well. We were warned about that." She glanced at Ashley. "At least he's gone."

"Yeah, but who took his place as the leader? If Azazel wasn't supposed to survive, who was supposed to give the head of his army orders?"

"And to what purpose?"

"An even better question." Nathan was silent a moment, before he said, "I know this sounds crazy, but all this talk of war makes me think of, well. You know. _The_ war."

"World War 3?"

"Don't be stupid."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "You mean Armageddon. A war between heaven and hell."

Dean shot her a sideways look, frowning.

Nathan's silence said everything.

"If that's it, then where are the angels? Where's the other side?" She pulled her hand away from Ashely and crawled back onto the bed. "Well, this is depressing."

"Yup." He sighed. "How are you and Ashley doing, anyway?"

She shrugged. "We're doing okay. The anti-depressants are helping. Seeing the woman scared of her child helped, although that's terrible. Just because, out of everything I've gone through with Ashley, the one thing I know for sure is that she is mine. And she's not going to suck the life out of me." She shrugged. "Although she's trying."

"She's eating."

"I cannot explain to you how tired I am at the constant sucking at my breasts. So tired."

"It…"

"If you say it sounds like fun to you, I will hunt you down and strangle you in your dreams. That goes for you too, Dean."

"I wasn't going to say anything," both of them said, sounding wounded.

Rachel yawned. "Okay. I need to go. Stay safe from the sins."

"Keep your baby safe from the changelings."

"Oh, trust me. She is not leaving my sight until this is over. Night." She hung up and placed the phone on the nightstand.

Dean ran his fingers through her hair. "What was all that about Armageddon?"

"Nathan and I were just trying to figure out what war Sam was supposed to be fighting."

"You know there's no such thing as angels. No heaven."

"There's got to be something. I'm not religious, but I don't believe that there's no dichotomy that's set this up. There are demons, there's a hell. Half of it is true. There's got to be something to the other half." She tugged Dean down and kissed him. "Maybe there is no real war. Maybe the demons just want to cause maximum chaos, and decided to organize. Or take over Earth, make it hell. But something's coming. Azazel was part of some plan."

Dean kissed her, laying her down on the bed and stretching half on top of her. "Whatever it is, it's not something we're going to solve tonight. I'm really tired, and I'd like to get some sleep before Ashely wakes up again."

Rachel glanced at the bassinet and nodded. "Okay. But we will figure this out."

"When we get home. We do this job, get out of town, and then worry about the bigger picture after we get home. Deal?"

"Yeah. Deal."

* * *

As soon as Lisa came storming over, eyes blazing, Dean knew he had screwed up somehow. He was well familiar with the look on her face, having seeing it on Rachel's any number of times. Frantically, he wracked his brain, trying to figure out what he'd done that was so out of line.

"Benjamin Isaac Braden!" she shouted. "What's gotten into you?"

Ben scowled and straightened his shoulders, taking on a posture of defiance. "He stole me game."

"So you kicked him? Since when is…" She broke off and glared at Dean. "Did you tell my son to beat up that kid?"

Okay, so apparently you couldn't tell other people's kids to beat up bullies. Come to think of it, he'd gotten in trouble quite a few times as a kid for standing up for himself. Not from John, but teachers and other parents. It was just all kinds of fucked up, because it wasn't like a bully was going to listen if you told them to give your stuff back. They were more likely to hit you or break what they'd taken.

They were kind of like demons in that way.

"What?" he said, his scowl matching Ben's. He believed Lisa when she said Ben wasn't his—eerie personality similarities notwithstanding—but a defiant scowl was the same on any face. "Somebody has to teach him how to kick a bully in the nads."

And, wow, the fury that flashed across Lisa's face actually made him step back. "Who asked you to teach him anything?"

And then, even though he knew better, Dean said the magic words that guaranteed to make anyone ten times angrier than they already were. "Just relax."

"What are you even still doing here?" she shouted, yanking Ben away from Dean. "We had one weekend together a million years ago. You don't know me!"

"I guess I'll cross you off our Christmas card list then," Rachel said walking up with the stroller they'd purchased that morning. They'd split up earlier, each checking out houses where there'd been a death to see if there were changeling children there. They'd agreed to meet up at noon.

If only Rachel had been five minutes earlier, they could have avoided all this.

She looked from Dean to Lisa and said, "Sorry we're still here. That's my fault. I couldn't face driving today."

Lisa took a deep breath, visibly reigning her anger in. "Tell your husband to stay away from my son," she said, holding Ben against her.

Rachel raised her eyebrow and looked at Dean.

"I was just teaching him to defend himself."

"You have no business with him!"

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Rachel cut him off. "Sorry, Lisa, it won't happen again. Dean, we need to go."

"Rachel…"

"It's almost time to feed her," she said obviously trying to give him an excuse to walk away. "Let's go."

Lisa snorted as they turned away. "Good luck with him."

Rachel's face flushed red, but she bit back whatever she was going to stay. Her knuckles were white as she pushed the stroller towards the car.

"Dean!" Ben shouted suddenly.

The next thing Dean knew, Ben was hugging him hard across the waist. "Thanks."

A warm feeling spread through Dean's chest. For a moment, instead of Ben, he saw Sammy when he'd still been shrimpy little kid and Dean had been his hero.

"Ben!"

Ben let go, gave Dean a wide smile, and ran to his mom.

"Dean."

He looked at Rachel, who nodded over his shoulder. When he looked, he saw three stone faced children watching him.

As casually as he could, Dean went to Rachel and put his arm around her shoulder. "Is Ashley safe?"

"I got a pound of iron filings and sprinkled them in the stroller. She's good. What did you say to Ben?"

"A bully stole his game. Told him to kick him in the crotch."

Rachel stopped. "Dean!"

"What? Someone had to teach him how to defend himself."

"No!" She picked Ashley up and went to the car. "Kids don't need to know how to beat up other kids."

"But," he started, opening the door.

"Stop. Let's just get back to the hotel. We can talk about it there." She climbed into the car and began to strap Ashely into her seat.

"You mean we're going to fight."

"I mean talk." She finished putting Ashley in and then climbed into the front seat. She almost slammed the door but remembered at the last second.

The drive back was tense. Neither said anything, but Dean could tell Rachel was working herself into a righteous snit about this. Or maybe that was him. He wasn't wrong, dammit. It was a hard world out there and kids needed to know how to defend themselves against it. Not just from bullies, but demons and ghosts and striga and everything. Rachel knew the world. She'd grown up with it. She had to know that.

But she sat there, cheeks getting redder and redder, and Dean's stomach twisted itself into knots. Because, he'd grown up in the real word, too, and he remembered people saying exactly what she was saying now.

Ashley was oblivious to the tension. By the time they got to the hotel, she was asleep. Rachel put her seat on the coffee table and turned to Dean.

"I don't disagree that kids have to be able to defend themselves. But if it's against a bully or another kids, it shouldn't be physically. That's not how thigs are done."

"How else do you defend yourself?"

"Words! Kids, hell, adults need to use words. You can't just beat up someone because they piss you off."

"If they steal something…"

"Get a police officer. And kids can get an adult."

"Only bitches get adults."

Rachel gaped at him. "What are you, twelve? My kid is not going to fight everyone who might pick on her."

"Why not?"

"Because she won't have to! She'll have us! Look, I get that John was not interested in teaching you and Sam how to solve kid-sized problems, but Ashely will have us to teach her how to fight her battles without, you know, fighting."

Stung, Dean stepped away from her. "You don't know what you're talking about."

She advanced on him. "Yes, I do. John prepared you and Sam to fight the supernatural. You two are the best hunters I've ever seen because he taught you well. But he didn't teach you how to live in the real world. He didn't teach you how to provide for yourselves or live in one place for years on end or get along with people. You moved so much you didn't have to learn. You pissed people off in one place, who cared? You were going to be gone in a few months. If you got in trouble at one school, well, you were in a new one soon enough. But Ashley isn't going to have that. We have a home and we are staying in that home. She's going to need to learn to get along with people."

"So, she'll be defenseless."

"No! Nathan and I learned how to defend ourselves. We've been in martial arts since we were kids. And you know what they teach you? To use what we learned in defense. If we're attacked, fight, but don't attack someone else because you're angry. There are better ways to deal with it." She rubbed her forehead. "We will make sure Ashley can fight. We can put her in martial arts or you can teach her. You can teach her to shoot and take down attackers and read an EMF. I don't care! I mean, she's not going to have a gun when she's a kid, but you can teach her to use one. But she's not going to be beating up other kids."

The fight went out of Dean abruptly as reality set in. He stepped away from her, body heavy with a bleakness that set in. "Yeah, except I won't be teaching her anything, huh? I'll be in hell. You can do what you want."

Her eyes went bright with tears. "Dean…"

He waved her away. "I need to finish checking the houses and find out where the changelings' lair is. I'll see you later."

"Dean!"

He just shook his head and left.

* * *

The door slammed shut. Rachel turned away just in time to see Ashely jerk awake and start to scream.

The tears filling Rachel's eyes spilled over. She crossed the room and unstrapped Ashley from the chair.

"Everything sucks," she said. She had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing. Sher whole body shook and her breath came in short gasps.

Ashley wouldn't take her breast. She just screamed, little face scrunched and turning red. And Rachel knew she wasn't must better. It was like Dean's words had broken a barrier in her. She'd built up this wall in her to protect her from the reality of her situation. Her parents were dead. She had a baby she wasn't ready for. She was an a road trip from hell.

And, in less than a year, her husband was going to be torn apart by hell hounds.

She cried for almost a half an hour before she was finally able to calm herself down. Then, she had to calm Ashley. She'd never cried like this before, and of course Dean was gone. Ashley was probably more upset that he had left her than by the fight itself.

Rachel fed and changed Ashley, walked her, bounced, sang to her, and finally—finally—Ashley calmed. Carefully, every SIDS horror story she'd ever read playing in her head, Rachel set up a pillow barrier on the bed and lay Ashley down.

Ashely watched Rachel through big, sleepy eyes as she lay down next to the baby.

"I'm going to save your daddy, Ashley," she said. "I don't know how. And I hope you don't hate me too much if I fail."

Ashley yawned and closed her eyes.

"Sleep, baby." She put her hand on Ashley's stomach. Hummed the opening of _Smoke on the Water_ , which was Dean's go-to when singing Ashley to sleep.

Ashely sighed. Her breathing evened out and her body relaxed into sleep.

Rachel watched her for a long time before she fell asleep, too.

It was dark when the buzzing phone woke her back up. She checked to make sure Ashley was still breathing and then answered.

"Dean?"

"They got Ben."

"What?"

"Every house I went to had a creepy changeling. I was going to try and convince Lisa to take Ben and leave town, but they already got him."

She sat up and pulled her hair from her face. "Are you sure he wasn't just acting weird? You got him in trouble earlier." Her voice was sore and scratchy from crying earlier. She got up and went to the kitchenette to get some water.

"No, it was definitely a changeling. I found those red marks on the windows, too."

"Blood?"

"I don't think so. Did you see that house that was under construction down the street from Lisa's?"

"Yeah."

"There's red dirt on the site. Like a dark clay. I think that's what it is. I think the kids are there."

She closed her eyes. "You gong there now?"

"Yeah. I'm on my way."

"You have what you need?"

"I got a blowtorch, my gun, and a knife. That should do it."

She sighed. "I wish Sam was here for backup."

"I'll be fine. It's an easy hunt." He paused. "How are you and Ashley?"

She went back to the bed and ran her finger over one of Ashley's fat, round cheeks. "We're okay."

"About what I said…"

"Not now." Her voice choked up with more tears and she gingerly wiped her eyes.

"Yeah. Okay." He sighed. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Stay safe."

* * *

It was after three in the morning when Dean got back to the hotel. Even though he'd been the one out hunting he felt a sense of relief when he saw Rachel sitting and feeding Ashley. He wasn't sure if he'd ever really be over Rachel disappearing, either time. He had a feeling he was always going to be waiting for her to disappear again, this time permanently.

She made him vulnerable. Terribly so. Still, he wasn't sure he minded.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

He nodded as he crossed the room to her. He kissed her, then bent down and kissed Ashley on the head. "The changeling went down easily. I've been taking the kids back and reassuring parents most of the night." He sat on the arm of the chair and kissed the top of Rachel's head. "None of them seemed surprised when they found out their kids had been gone. I mean, they all had this horrified expression when I first pulled up, but that's because the kids had gone up in flames in front of them. But they all knew something was wrong. Only that Annette woman was brave enough to actually say it."

"Well. It takes a lot to tell someone that you think your kids is not your kid. And Lisa didn't even believe her. People don't want to believe in changelings and ghosts and the rest. The world is uncertain enough as it is."

"Yeah, I know. Sometimes I think it's be easier if people would just open their eyes. But, at the same time… Well, like your dad said. If you poke at the supernatural, it'll poke back."

"But it can't poke everyone."

He raised his eyebrow. "You really want to take that chance?" He rubbed her back. "Lisa invited us over for breakfast tomorrow, if you want. As a thank you."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I want to be home. More than anything, I just want to be home." She looked down at Ashley, who was now sucking air, asleep.

Dean rose, took Ashley from Rachel, and placed her in the bassinette. "About earlier…"

"Let's not…"

"No. I need to talk. I've been thinking about this all night." He pulled her up sat down on the chair, and pulled her on top of him. "I get I messed up with Ben. I wouldn't want some stranger telling Ashely to do things. I shouldn't have stuck my nose in. And, well, maybe you have a point."

"About?"

"Fighting. How I was raised." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I love my dad. But I. I wish he'd been there for us more. Especially Sammy. I took care of myself…"

"You shouldn't have had to."

He shrugged. "Sam acts… maybe he thinks he was the only one angry all the time. I tried not to be, but I was. Dad wasn't there. If I had a problem, no matter who it was with, I had to take care of it myself. Teachers and other kids and parents and everyone. Dad always told me to deal with it, not to bother him and that sucked."

Rachel stroked Dean's jaw gently, but she didn't say anything. Her eyes were sympathetic, but not pitying, and that helped. He didn't want pity; it might break him right now.

"I don't want that for Ashley. I don't want her to feel like that. If you think that teaching her not to fight will do that…"

"No, that's not it. Not just that. It's learning to live with people. Learning that it's not us versus them. That we can live together and get alone." She moved her hand to the back his neck. "It's knowing that your parents are there for you."

He nodded and tried not to let his expression darken too much. Rachel, though, must have followed his thoughts because her eyes grew bright with tears.

"We'll find a way to break your contract."

He didn't believe they would. The odds were too stacked against them. There was so little they knew about these deals and so little time.

"If we can't," he said as steadily as he could, "Ashley won't be alone." He stroked her hair. "She'll have you, Sam, and Nathan."

"And Bobby. And Ellen." She rested her head against his. "But I need you. You have to fight this."

"I will." He kissed her temple and held her tightly. "But just in case…"

She sighed. "Yeah. I know."


	6. Chapter 6

In the few days Dean and Rachel had been home, Sam had gotten used to holding Ashley. He'd gotten more comfortable cradling the tiny form against his chest, supporting her head, keeping her safe. He wasn't ever sure he'd be over the experience, though.

She was just so little. Everything thing about her was so small, from her nose to her fingernails. Sam couldn't help marveling over her, feeling like a freak, but also painfully aware that he'd never had this chance before. He'd never had a younger sibling, and the life they led had kept his isolated from younger children. Any friends he'd had as a kid had never had newborn siblings. Ashley was his first.

He was also strangely, almost acutely aware that this really wasn't his niece. This was his sister. His half-sister, yes, but sister nonetheless. He would never dare mention it to anyone; the whole situation was painful enough without reminding Dean that his daughter really wasn't (and Sam had no idea how—or if—they were ever going to explain that to Ashley. There were some things he didn't need to know.)

God, he had a little sister. One of the things he'd always wanted was a younger sibling. Something normal. Something he could protect, like Dean protected him. Someone lower on the food chain.

Well. The lower on the food chain bit was a moot point now, but Sam couldn't help the sense of possessive ownership he felt when he held her. Not like she was his child, but his sister. His niece. It didn't matter what he was, she was his to protect, and he was going to do everything he could to keep her safe.

She let go of the bottle she was drinking for with a loud, wet pop. Her eyes widened up at Sam and she made a few heavy breathing noises at him.

"Done with your bottle, Ashley?" He set the bottle down and lifted her onto his shoulder. Carefully, he patted her back. His hand was broader than her, and he knew how to control his strength, but it was still a little nerve-racking.

Nathan had joked that by Dean and Rachel's second kid, Sam would be a pro. Rachel had responded by knocking Nathan's plate of pie to the floor and refusing to get him another one. Everyone had felt that the fact Rachel was displaying an emotion other than "indifferent" was a win, even if no one said it.

Ashley released a juicy burp and spit up a few drops of the milk she'd just drunk. Sam wiped her up. "If you want to gain weight, you have to keep it down," he told her as he set her back into her baby seat.

She waved her arms wildly at him and kicked her legs. If she was older, Sam was pretty sure she'd be smiling.

"So, are you ready to learn more about crossroad demons?" he asked, smiling at her. He sat down at the kitchen table and adjusted her seat

She made a cooing noise.

"Personally, I think the library is a perfectly safe place for you to be right now. I think you'd like looking out that back window. But Rachel said that you can't go in until she finishes indexing the books." He rolled his eyes. "Why she would have books that might have be dangerous in there, I'm not sure. And I don't know why the library is dangerous and the kitchen isn't."

"Because I had wards laid into the baseboards in the room!" Rachel shouted from down the hall. "Nothing is getting out of the room!"

"I don't get what you think is in the room in the first place," he called back, making a face at Ashley.

"I'm not taking any chances."

He got it, he did. None of them wanted to take chances. But there was cautious and there was paranoid.

"I think your mom is a little obsessed," he whispered, getting up to pour himself a cup of coffee.

The moment his back was turned, Ashley started making all kinds of noises. In addition to heavy breathing, she made some coos that she usually reserved for Dean and Rachel.

"You finally up?" he asked, assuming Dean had just walked in. When there was no answer, he said, "You need coffee that bad?" and grabbed another cup. Sam had the luxury of sleeping through Ashley's nightly feedings, but Dean was getting up for every one of them. Both he and Rachel walked around in a sort of daze.

There was still no answer. Sam turned.

No one was there. Ashely's eyes were wide, legs kicking like crazy, but they were alone.

And then Nathan was there, Rachel following. Both looked freaked out. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"What?"

"Didn't you feel that?"

Sam put the mugs down. "Feel what? Nothing happened."

Nathan shook his head, looking freaked. "Something powerful was just in here. Crazy powerful. It was stronger than a demon, stronger than Azazel. Shit." He felt along the wall until he found the table and then Ashley. "It was right here. You didn't feel anything?"

"No. Ashley started making noise, but I didn't… I'm not psychic any more, Nathan."

He shrugged. "That's debatable."

"I could feel it, too," Rachel said. "Not like Nathan, but like a… a creepy feeling on the back of my neck. Like I was being watched." She unsnapped Ashley from the baby seat. "It didn't feel like Azazel, though, and he's the only one…" Her voice died abruptly.

"What is it?" Nathan asked, but Sam saw it.

Rachel held up the empty Heath bar wrapper, holding Ashley tightly against her.

"I thought you said it was bad luck to eat candy before ten," Dean said, entering the room, wet hair sticking up in all directions.

"Candy?" Nathan said.

"The trickster was here."

Dean's face changed immediately, turning serious and angry. "Why the hell was he here?"

"I don't know. To visit Ashely." She held hugged Ashely, resting her cheek against her head. "I don't think he did anything. She seems okay. And he wasn't here that long."

"I thought you said the house was protected against everything, Nathan." Dean went to stand next to Rachel, putting his hand on Ashley's back.

"Bobby and I put up every ward and every sigil against everything we could think of. We put one up against every pagan god. By all rights, nothing should have gotten past the property line."

"Except Rachel's been saying from the beginning that we're not dealing with a pagan god," Sam pointed out.

Nathan nodded. "I'm not very fine tuned. I can sense power. What came in here was powerful. But I couldn't tell you if it was more powerful than a pagan god or not." He turned his head towards Rachel.

She shrugged. "All I know is the trickster gave off the same kind of energy as Azazel. Not exactly, but sort of… similar."

"So a demon." Dean said.

"Maybe. He didn't do anything. And he helped us."

"He helped you." Dean put his hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Maybe it was a one-time deal. Maybe you agree to something you didn't realize."

"You think he did something to Ashley?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't… I don't know. But we need to check."

"Check how?" asked Sam.

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. "Like, maybe we need to get a psychic to look at her."

Sam's eyebrows hit his hairline. "You would willingly call Missouri for help?"

"Who else am I going to call?" he demanded, opening his eyes. "The only other psychic we knew was Rachel's grandfather. And at least Missouri hates me a little less than that guy did."

"Way to be an ass, Dean," Nathan said, voice choked.

Sam shot a glare at Dean and went to his boyfriend, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Okay. So we'll call Missouri and see if she can come and make sure Ashley's okay. In the meantime, one of us needs to figure out how we'd ward off something of Azazel's power."

"Well," Rachel said, ignoring the tears on her face, "Azazel may have been a fallen angel."

"This again?" Dean said.

"Or, okay, angel's don't exist and he was just a high ranking demon, whatever!" she snapped. "But he was something beyond the norm and it wouldn't hurt to at least look at the lore on fallen angels, even if you don't believe in them. Maybe we'll find something, maybe we'll find out more about the organization of hell, or information on Azazel, or who the hell the trickster actually is. But just because you don't believe in angels doesn't mean they don't exist and that fallen ones aren't possibly a threat. So shove your skepticism up your ass and get on the phone to Missouri."

Ashley started to scream.

Rachel closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. Dean, call Missouri. Sam, you get to research fallen angels and other powerful demons. Nathan, you're still on crossroad detail. And I'm going to go cuddle the baby until she falls asleep. Got it?"

"Yeah," they all said.

She smirked and rolled her eyes. "Go team."

* * *

Hours later, Dean went into the library, where Rachel had been holed up since Ashley had last fallen asleep. He found her sitting at the desk, glaring at a book as if it had insulted her family.

"Missouri called," he said, sliding his hand across her shoulders. "She's almost here."

Rachel nodded in acknowledgement, then said, "I know why the Trickster was here." Her voice was dark. "Well. I don't know why, because I cannot fathom his thinking, but I know what he did."

"What?"

"He got rid of almost everything we had about crossroad demons."

He frowned. "What you mean? The books are gone?"

"No the books are still here. The pages on crossroad demons are gone. He replaced them with porn."

"Porn?" He picked up the book.

"Careful," she said, smile playing on her lips. "Some of it is gay porn. I guess he wanted to leave something for me to enjoy."

Wrinkling his nose, Dean flipped gingerly through the pages. Among the dusty, brittle pages was a section of brightly colored, glossy photos of naked men and women. Some of them, Dean recognized from Busty Asian Beauties or some fine films he'd enjoyed. The others he wouldn't admit to recognizing, but there may have been faces that Rachel occasionally flipped through when she was bored.

"Why would he do something like this?"

She shrugged. "Because it's funny?"

"But why… go to the trouble? Is he pranking us? What did we do?"

"I think he doesn't want us to contact the crossroad demon. Maybe it's his way of telling me that he helped saved Ashley, leave well enough alone and don't tempt fate." She pushed her bangs off her forehead. "Or, maybe he doesn't want us to break your curse."

A spark of anger lit in his chest. "Why should it matter to that douchebag?"

She shot him a look "That douchebag saved your daughter from being possessed." She tilted her head. "Maybe he's protecting his investment." She tilted her head. "He didn't take it all, though. All the notes I took are is still there." She gestured to her notebook.

"Maye he didn't know," Dean said, shrugging.

"I think underestimating what he knows is dangerous. The trickster is very… savvy."

"Overestimating him is just as bad. He cleared out the books. He didn't touch your research. You write down a lot of stuff about a lot of things. He might not have thought to look. Besides, we don't know that he got everything on crossroads demons, just what you've been looking at. What do you have on it?"

"A summoning ritual, different from the one that you use to make a deal. There's no box to bury, just some blood and a chant. I've also got a variation of a devil's trap, since the demon is well aware of that little trick. It can be summoned directly inside of it. And a bunch of history. I have enough to write an article."

He sat on the desk. "Maybe the trickster is encouraging you to write."

"Maybe we should stop trying to figure out what a pagan god was thinking. It's an exercise in futility. He's a trickster. Who knows why he does what he does?" She sighed and leaned into Dean, resting her head against his leg. "I don't know what to do."

"Maybe we should just give up," Dean said. It made him want to scream saying it but he didn't know what to say. He was trying to have hope, he really was. But it all seemed so futile. Everything was against them, even the creature who'd helped the before. Maybe it was a sign.

Rachel's head snapped up. "No. No, I am going to summon that demon tomorrow. Nathan and I. You all will go to Bobby's."

"I can't even been there?"

"No Just in case."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Me not being there isn't going to stop a hell hound from finding me. If the demon decides to take me…"

"I'm not going to do anything but ask it a few questions. You know. For my article."

He snorted and shook his head fondly. "Like the crossroad demon is going to buy that. You're crazy." He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.

"Yes, she is," a voice drawled from the door. "Never thought I'd see the day when you were the smart one in the relationship, Dean."

Dean looked up, his stomach tightening in the same way it always did when Missouri was around. He liked her okay. Not a whole lot, because she could be kind of a dick to him. But she'd watched out for Rachel when he'd been in the hospital. Plus, he suspected that, deep down, Missouri actually sort of liked him. She just had a twisted way of showing it.

Missouri was holding Ashley, smiling down at her with the slightly stupid smile everyone got when looking at her.

"Is she okay?" Dean asked.

"She's perfect," answered Missouri. "Look at that little nose. It's like a button."

"I mean, did the trickster do anything to her?" he clarified, even as he puffed up with a little bit of pride. He loved it when people admired his daughter. She was perfect, and he wanted everyone to know it.

Missouri shot him a look, but she answered his question rather than his thoughts. "Not that I can tell."

"But he must have done something." Rachel got up and hovered over Ashley, looking like she wanted to take her, but refraining. "Do you sense that he was here?"

"I can feel a lot of power in this house. Something beyond the little charms and spells you, Nathan, and Bobby have laid down to protect it. Good job, by the way. But there's something more. And there's an aura around Ashley."

"What kind of aura?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say it was love."

Dean raised his eyebrow. "Love?"

"Or admiration. But it's something positive. He didn't mean the baby any harm. If this really is a pagan god we're dealing with, it could have been a blessing."

"It's a trickster," Dean protested.

"It's a god. Every god has its followers. And, in turn, they can deliver blessings."

"They protect the good and powerless from the high and mighty. Ashley would qualify." Rachel looked at Dean, eyebrows raised.

Dean sighed. "Then I guess we called you down for nothing."

"Bull puckey," Missouri said. She nuzzled against Ashley's face. "First of all, you don't want to mess around with something as powerful as a trickster. Better to know he means no harm than wonder what he wanted. Second, you should have called me months ago. Before she was even born." She looked up. "Rachel, I'm surprised at you."

Rachel threw her hands up at her side. "I had my grandfather. and you got hurt last time we called you. And you're mean to Dean. And… and…" She deflated. "And I am out of excuses. I don't know."

Missouri smiled. "Well. I suppose you had a lot on your mind." She looked at Dean. "You too. It's been a rough year for the both of you."

"Well, this one isn't looking to be any easier." Dean tried to sound lighthearted, but failed miserably.

Her smiled faded. "So I see. What were you thinking, you foolish child?"

He scowl, shoulders coming up defensively. "You weren't there."

"But your soul?"

"It was good enough for my dad. And he got less time than even I did."

"And you're worth ten of your father," she said, shocking Dean to the core. "You got had. And your soul wasn't yours to sell, either."

Rachel perked up. "Think the crossroad demon would buy that?" she asked. She reached out and took Ashley from Missouri.

Missouri lifted a shoulder. "Doubt it, but if you're going through with the fool idea, it can't hurt to try. You're going to get laughed at, but it can't hurt."

"What else am I supposed to do?" Rachel asked, rocking Ashley against her shoulder. "At the very least, we'll have a better idea what we're up against."

"Well," Missouri said doubtfully, "a little bit of knowing might not be a bad thing. But it could blow up in your face. And I'm not sure they'd buy that you were just asking questions any way."

Rachel threaded her hand through her hair and tugged. "I'll do it tonight. You all go to Bobby's; I'll summon the demon. At least then we'll know."

"Oh, you can't do it here. The crossroad's closed. Sealed off. Never felt a thing like it before I crossed the state line. But, after a bit, it came clear what had happened."

"State line?" Dean said as Rachel's mouth fell open. "Do you mean every crossroad in the state is sealed?"

She nodded. "Every one I drove over was. If I had to make a guess, I'd say they all were."

Abruptly, Rachel thrust Ashley at Dean. She stormed out of the room fists clenched. The front screen door slammed.

"Son of a bitch!" they heard her scream from outside.

Dean sighed and shifted Ashley in his arms. "Even I can't believe how badly I fucked all this up. I know you think I'm stupid, but I get it. I do."

"I don't think you're stupid. I think you tend not to use your brain to make decisions. Using your heart isn't always a bad thing, but it didn't work out in this case. And…" Her voice softened. "You're blind to your value. Not just as a commodity for your family, but as a person. If you had realized how much you're worth you would never have traded your soul for a year."

The smile on his face was empty and his heart hurt looking at Ashley. "But Sam would be dead."

"The way it stands now you Winchesters will keep trading your souls until you're all in hell. And hell wins. With Sam, sounds like he was cheated out of heaven. And now, you are too."

Dean rolled his eyes. "There's no heaven."

She got out of the chair she'd been sitting in and went to Dean. She whapped him on the back of the head.

"Hey!"

"Hell is real, boy. So something else exists. Last year there was a reaper after you. Where do you think it was taking you?"

He hadn't bothered to think that far.

"You didn't think." She whapped him again. "You're going to make that girl a widow and she's barely been a wife. Fix it."

"How?" He wanted to shout it, but just managed to reign it in. "How do we fix it? I have no ideas. I don't want to die, but every day I feel myself more resigned to hell. So, what do I do?"

For the first time he'd known her, Missouri looked diminished somehow. And world weary. "I wish I knew, boy. I really wish I did."

* * *

"It's not that big a setback," Sam said, rubbing Rachel's back soothingly as she sat in the middle of the crossroad, fighting back tears. "We'll just go out of state. He can't have sealed every crossroad everywhere."

"How do we know? I didn't even know you could seal off a crossroad." A traitorous tear escaped her eye and she bat it away furiously. Sniffing, she yanked a weed out of the dirt road. "This isn't going to work. Even if we do summon the demon, it won't tell us anything."

Sam's hand stilled, then he pulled away. "I've been thinking about that. You're probably right. Threatening it with exorcism probably won't scare it, either. It's like sending it back to its room. We need something more serious to threaten it with."

"Like what?"

"The Colt."

She shook her head. "The Colt's dead, I thought. You guys used the last bullet."

He nodded. "So we fix it. There's got to be a way. Maybe Nathan can figure it out. Or Bobby." Sam lifted his eyebrows. "It won't hurt to try."

"No. But are you suggesting we kill the demon?"

"No demon, no contract."

She frowned skeptically. "That can't be right. I mean, who's to say what role the demon plays in its ska band? She might just be a roadie or something, taking orders from someone on top. Or… or a ticket salesman."

"This metaphor really doesn't work."

"And angel choirs do? Angels are warriors, why do we call their orders choirs? My point is, the demon's job might just be to make the deals. Someone else manages them." She shrugged. "Killing the demon is like killing a ticket agent You're still not getting your refund. Beside. Kill the demon, kill the human they're riding. We should only do that if necessary."

"Are you saying that saving my brother's life isn't necessary?"

She gaped at him. "That's not what I said. Dean's life is what's at stake here. But we can't kill some innocent person to save his life. Especially since it a. probably won't work and b. probably won't be just one person."

"What do you mean?"

She stood and brushed dirt from her pants. "We summon a demon. Question it, find out who its boss is. Then, we have to summon another one. And maybe another. We just going to keep killing people every time we summon a demon?"

Sam unfolded himself and stood as well. "I thought you said we'd have to summon one demon."

"I don't know! That's why I've been researching. But I haven't gotten very far. I only suspect that maybe there's more than just the crossroad demons. I came across some references to contract and holders, but I don't know for sure. But what I do know is that we can't just kill people because they're possessed by demons."

"Almost everyone we've met who's been possessed has been practically dead when we exorcise the demon. We'd be doing them a favor."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I am trying to save my brother!"

"By becoming a serial killer?" Rachel couldn't believe what she was hearing. "We are supposed to be saving people. That's why we are in this business to begin with."

"What has saving people ever gotten us, Rachel? Dad's dead, you got raped, I was killed, Nathan was blinded, and Dean's going to hell. We need to change our playbook because we are losing."

Everything he said made a horrible sort of sense. What were they getting by playing by the rules? What good did it do?

She shook the thought away. "Remember Meg Masters? The girl, not the demon."

"Yes. She died."

"It mattered to her that the demon was gone before she died."

He shook his head. "We need to start looking out for ourselves," Sam said harshly.

She took a step back and threw up her hands. "Then why don't you go back to trying to use your powers? If all that matters is us, and you've got them, why not use them?"

He shook his head, panic crossing his face. "I don't have them anymore. They must have been tied to Azazel, because I haven't had them since he died."

"What sense does that make? Everyone's been saying that Azazel was supposed to die at the cemetery. You are supposed to be leading the army, so you must still have those powers even with him gone."

"But I only have them because…" He stopped.

Curiosity piqued, she stepped toward him and tried to soften her expression. "What? Did Azazel tell you something about your powers?"

He scrubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah. He showed me what he did. He… he fed me his blood." He dropped his hands and looked at her helplessly. "I've got demon blood in me. That's why I have these powers."

She nodded, stomach dropping. But she'd been expecting something like that. Azazel hadn't raped Mary, he wasn't Sam's father. The powers came after. Blood was a conduit.

She managed to keep her voice steady as she said, "That's bad. I get that, Sam. But it's part of you now. It's been part of you for over twenty years. You've fought that influence all your life." She moved closer to him and put her hand on his arm. "If you don't ever to use your powers, I'd understand. I don't think I'd want to, either. The others that did turned bad. And you have them so you could lead an army of demons. So, yeah, don't use your powers. But the Colt isn't the only answer. We have to exorcise…"

"It takes too long."

"But it saves the possessed! Or at least it frees them. Sam, you were possessed. Would you really have wanted to die with the demon still inside you?"

He frowned. "Well. No, but…"

"Hundreds of demons escaped hell. We are not killing hundreds of people." She waved her hands and said, "Maybe there is a spell or a ritual that will kill demons. Something faster than an exorcism. But, damn it, Sam, we are not going to stop doing what's right because our lives suck. I cannot live like that and I am not losing you, too!" With that, she pivoted on her heel and headed back into the house.

* * *

"She's right, you know."

Sam whirled, almost falling over.

Ruby stood a few feet away, on the side of the road. "Hi, Sam."

"Ruby."

Ruby waggled her fingers at him, then crossed her arms over her chest. "I mean, if you want to fix the Colt and kill every demon you come across, that's your prerogative. But there's a better way."

"Oh, yeah? What?"

"You are supposed to be leading a demon army," she said, using the words that were beginning to make Sam want to scream and tear his hair out. "What do you think you were supposed to do if someone didn't want to behave? Send them to time out? Smack them around?" She shook her head. "No. You'd need a way to show them who was boss. Your powers."

"So, what, I'd throw them around a little bit? Control their minds and make them do the chicken dance?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "You can exorcise demons with your powers. Literally send them to time out back in hell. And if you get powerful enough, you'd be able to kill them."

"Really?"

"Really." Ruby smiled. "I don't know if I'd start with a crossroad demon, though. I'd try with some low level demons, and you have plenty of them to play with."

Sam shook his head. "How am I supposed to do something like that? I don't even have dreams any more. I never learned how to control any of the powers."

"Did you try?"

No, he hadn't, but he wasn't about to admit that to her. He stayed silent instead.

She shrugged. "Well. Figure out how to activate your powers again. Really try this time. And, in the meantime, get working on the Colt. I can help you guys fix it, but I can't get into your house."

"Can you stand on the crossroads?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It's sealed against all demons. I can be next to it, but not on it. Theoretically, you could try and summon a crossroad demon next to it, but you'd be better going out of state to one that pagan god hasn't gotten to. And take the Colt with you. At the very least, kill one, and the rest will know you're serious."

"So there is more than one crossroad demon."

"Oh, there are many members of the band, Sam. Good luck getting near the lead singer, though. He's an elusive one, and not likely to respond to a summoning unless he's specified by name."

"Any chance you can give me the name?"

"I'm not well connected enough to know it."

"But are well connected enough to know about Nathan and Rachel's whole ska band metaphor. You are a demon of many layers."

Ruby smiled and took a step back. "Practice bending spoons, Sam. It'll be the first step to killing demons in your mind. And get the Colt off your property. I can get onto Singer's place. Get the Colt and I can help fix it."

"Why are you…" but before he could finish the question, she disappeared and Sam was left alone.


	7. Chapter 7

"I get the idea behind this plan, but, yeah, let's give the blind guy a gun," Nathan said as he gingerly took the gun from Bobby.

"I'm not too thrilled with it either, but you're the empath. Maybe you can figure out the way it works." He grunted. "Truth is, it's the letting the demon help us part of the plan I'm not thrilled with. The gun's not loaded, not much you can do."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Gee, thanks."

"You know what I mean."

He nodded and finished running his fingers over the Colt. Then, he began to disassemble it, taking each piece and holding it, allowing his senses to drink it in.

"Anything?" Bobby asked after Nathan had the whole thing in pieces.

"Nope." He laid the last piece down and rubbed his chin. "I mean, I can sense its power. I can't explain it, but there is something different about this gun than any other gun I've ever handled. What I'd like to do is compare it to something else that kills demons, like, say, Ruby's knife. What do you say?"

"Well, I don't…"

"He's talking to me," a voice said from somewhere behind Nathan. "And I don't you well enough to handle my knife." There was a puff of air on his ear and a hint of warmth against his face as she whispered, "Unless, you show me yours first."

He couldn't help stiffening, but it was equally due to hating when people snuck up on him as the waves of demonic energy that went through him. Demons were rough and ugly. They felt like jagged glass and gritty sand under your eyelids. It took everything Nathan had not to wrap his hands around her neck and start exorcising.

But they'd agreed not to. When Sam had told him what Ruby had suggested, they'd talked about it for hours. Dean and Missouri had been firmly against accepting help from a demon. Rachel had been ambivalent, and Nathan…

Nathan wasn't sure. He was firmly in the anti-demon camp. Not only were demons bad, but they had it out for his boyfriend. Well. Not out. But they had plans for his boyfriend. Apocalyptic, evil-overlord, General Winchester plans. Yes, Sam said that Ruby didn't want a war to happen, but, hello? Demon. Demon lied.

And Nathan couldn't get what Meg had said to him while possessing Sam. That Nathan had proved how easy it was to talk Sam into things. And he didn't believe it—he didn't! If Sam hadn't been bi to begin with, he never would have gotten together with Nathan. Nathan had barely done anything! In fact, it was after he'd stopped flirting that Sam had softened to him.

But. The demons wanted to convince Sam to lead their army. What if Ruby was just being really subtle? What if this was just some twisted tactic to get Sam to go dark side.

But, after hours of discussing, at looking at the issue from all sides, they'd decided that the benefits outweighed the risks.

But, sitting here with a demon breathing in his ear, Nathan was second guessing that decision. "Sorry, Ruby, but I don't think Sam would like that very much."

She gave a little laugh then pulled away. "You might be surprised." She walked around the table, footsteps loud on the floor.

At his feet, Ginger growled.

"Call you bitch off, Nathan, or I'm leaving."

"She's not attacking, she's just uneasy. She won't attack if you don't hurt me." Nathan reached down and soothed his hand over Ginger's head.

She gave another growl but obediently settled back on the floor. He could feel her tense and alert at his feet, though, ready to spring if Ruby made the wrong move.

"This is all very nice, but can we get to the point?" Bobby asked. "How do we get it to work?"

"It's not the gun itself, it's the bullets. They have to be made a specific way for this specific gun. You got a way to make bullets, old man?"

"Of course," he answered stiffly.

Nathan tilted his head. "The legend says that he made it the night Halley's Comet appeared in the sky. We're out of luck if that was the key."

"Well, luckily, it's not," Ruby said scornfully. "What you can't see, but might be able to sense, is a special sort of devil's trap is etched on the inside of the barrel. The old bullets had etchings too, and when they pass through the barrel, the magic activates." She plopped down in the seat next to him. "Colt's original mold has been long lost, but I know what the etching looked like. Think you're up to it?" She nudged him with her foot.

He sighed. "Me? If you haven't noticed, I can't exactly see here."

He jumped when she put her hand on top of his. A moment later, the image blazed brightly in his head, followed by more glass-shards-under the eyelids feeling. A sharp pain also lanced through his temple, digging deep into his brain.

He pulled his hand back, just short of yanking it away. "I still think Bobby should do it."

"Well, Bobby isn't as powerful as you. No offense, but the Adams line naturally runs towards magic, and you, being an empath, channel it more easily."

"You want me to weld that image on the mold. I can't see what I'm doing and it's small."

"I'll help you."

He winced and rubbed his temple. "Colt wasn't an empath."

"And Bobby's not an artist." She sighed. "Fine, he can do it, but there's a ritual he'll have to do that you don't have to because, like I said, you can channel magic." She slid her arm around Nathan's shoulders and nuzzled his ear. "It'd be so much easier if you just do this."

"The more you try to convince me, the less I want to do this." Nathan looked over at Bobby, or at where he hoped Bobby was based on where his voice came from last. He raised both eyebrows and hoped the showed over his sunglasses.

"Let's just get this done," Bobby said. "I'll get what we need."

He pushed Ruby away and rubbed his forehead. His head ached fiercely and having her so close to him wasn't helping him.

This was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea. He was going to need her to show him the image again, and probably to guide his hands. But, they needed the Colt. And she was right: it'd be faster if Nathan did it than Bobby.

He sighed. "Fine."

Ruby clapped her hands. "Let's make some bullets, boys."

* * *

"Ramble on and now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song," Dean sang softly as he pulled the bottle from Ashley's mouth. He had her balanced carefully on his thighs as he sat on the bed feeding her. She was dressed for bed, in a yellow onesie, all nice bright and clean.

He gave it another ten minutes before something messed her up.

Waiting to see if she wanted more, he held the bottle a few inches from her mouth and continued singing, "I've been around the world, and I found my girl, on my way."

Ashley pursed her lips a few times and made a few gurgling sounds. Then, as if realizing the bottle was gone, her face screwed up.

Dean quickly put the bottle back in her mouth. "Don't start crying, little bit. Don't want your mommy running in here, all naked, wet, and panicked." Then he frowned, the image flashing through his mind. "Well. You don't. I wouldn't mind it. Except for the panicked part. Don't like that."

She stopped sucking on the bottle to blow milk bubbles and wave her arms .

"Yeah, you recognize Mommy's name? You miss her?"

She made a couple little gurgles, stretched, and twisted her mouth into what looked like a smile.

"You are gonna have a killer smile when you finally do it, baby girl. But, right now, I bet that's gas. Or worse." He raised the bottle back to her mouth.

A phone started ringing.

Dean frowned and glanced at his phone on the nightstand. It wasn't ringing. Neither was Rachel's.

"Huh," he said. He shifted Ashley into his arms and maneuvered off the bed. It took some tricky handling to balance her and the bottle and keep one hand free, but he was getting this parenting thing down.

His father's phone was tucked away in the closet on a shelf. He grabbed it and answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm looking for Edgar Cayce," a man's voice said on the other end.

"Uh, yeah, this is Edgar Cayce," Dean said. He tucked the phone under his ear and shifted Ashely again so he could hold the bottle in the other hand.

"This is Mike Donavan from Castle Storage. I'm calling to let you know there's been a break-in at your storage unit."

"Oh. Uh…"

"I haven't called the police yet, but…"

"No, no, don't call the police. Just lock it up."

Rachel came in from the bathroom. She was flushed her shower, hair wet as she combed it. Drops of wet darkened her pajama top and she looked half asleep as she crossed the room to the bed.

Dean snapped to get her attention. "Take her," he mouthed.

She frowned at the phone he was holding, but took Ashley and the bottle. She went to the bed as Dean walked to the dresser.

"Are you sure you don't want me to call the police? I don't know what was taken."

"Yeah, I'll handle it myself," Dean said, fumbling with the millions of paper that Rachel had strewn across the top of the dresser, looking for a blank one. Or at least one he could write on. "Can you lock it back up for me?"

"Of course."

"Great. Oh, and I don't have my book in front of my. Can you give me the address again?"

"It's 42 Rover Hill. Castle Storage."

"Thanks." Dean hung up. "So, apparently my dad had a storage locker."

"Oh?" Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"Well, there was a break-in. Don't know what's taken, but, knowing my dad, we should probably be worried. If it was important enough to keep, it was probably pretty nasty." He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "It's in New York."

She shook her head, a sort of desperate panic crossing her face. "I can't. Dean, I can't do that drive again."

"No, no. I know." He came over to the bed and sat next to her. "I wouldn't even consider asking you." He rubbed his hand up her back, feeling the soft cotton of the towel and then the wet strands of hair. "I could ask Sam to go."

"I…" She hesitated, then said, "I don't know if I'd trust him on his own right now."

"Trust him to what?" Dean demanded, mindful not to raise his voice. Ashely's eyes were closing and he wasn't stupid enough to startle a sleeping baby.

She shook her head, shrugging "I don't… I don't know. He was just really weird out there today. Saying that he didn't care how many innocent people he had to kill if we got the Colt fixed."

"He was exaggerating. Sam wouldn't…"

"Give me some credit! I may not know him as well as you…"

"No, you don't." He stepped away from the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Couldn't believe that Rachel would accuse Sam of being a stone cold killer. "Look, Sam is a lot of things," he said, voice low and angry. "But he's not a killer. He knows right from wrong. Knows it better than me."

"Then are we sure Sam is really Sam?"

He turned. "He's a tattoo. He can't be possessed."

Rachel was looking up at him through big, brown eyes, all earnest and serious. "He died, Dean. He died and a demon brought him back from the dead."

"A demon brought me back, and I'm fine."

"You weren't dead." She stood and placed Ashley in the bassinet next to the bed. "Dean, what Azazel did for you was rescue from a reaper." She ran her hands up his chest to his shoulders. "The crossroad demon brought Sam back from the dead. What does that do to a soul?"

He looked away, Azazel's words echoing in his head. _How certain are you that what you brought back is 100 percent pure Sam?_

But he shook his head and put his hands over Rachel's. "No. No, if Sam wasn't right, then Nathan would have said something."

"Nathan isn't infallible. And he's too close. He might want to believe that Sam is fine, even if he isn't."

"No."

Rachel sighed. "Okay. Okay, Dean." She kissed him on the cheek. "If you say Sam is fine, I'll believe you. But I still don't think he should be alone right now. I don't think any of us should be."

He wrapped his arms around her. "I don't want to go," he said softly, resting his forehead against hers. "God, Rach, I have less than a year left."

"We'll get you out…"

"Even so. I want my time with my baby girl."

"Then send Sam. Nathan can go with him."

"No. I don't know what's in Dad's storage locker, but, whatever it is, I should see it." He kissed her, meaning for it to be quick, but their mouths caught together, lingering. "I don't want to leave you, either," he whispered, sliding his hands up her back.

She shook her head and pulled him back to her. Her tongue traced his bottom lip and she stepped back to the bed. "I don't want you to go." Her fingers gripped at him.

Dean walked her back to the bed and lowered her down onto it. He followed stretching out beside her. They traded long, languorous kisses, hands stroking over each other. Warmth flooded through Dean and a slow, muted arousal. His cock stirred, but didn't harden even when Rachel slung her leg around his hip and rubbed against him.

"I can help you out," she whispered against his mouth.

He shook his head and trailed kisses down her neck. "Not really in the mood." Which was partly a lie. He could get into the mood if he tried. But between the perpetual haze of exhaustion Ashley kept him in and the ever-present weight of his contract pressing on him, it seemed like too much effort. Especially since Rachel couldn't participate as much more than a giver. He might be able to get her off, but he was a little hesitant to touch her too much without the doctor's say so. And, considering everything, they hadn't bothered to ask.

But this was fine. Making out, gentle caresses, slow kisses. Slow waves of dizzying warmth washing over him, making him sleepy and comfortable.

He noticed a dampness on his face. Pulling back, he saw Rachel was crying silently. "What's wrong?" He wiped the tears.

Rachel shook her head and turned it, kissing the palm of his hand. "Nothing. Everything." She tightened her grip on him and buried her face in his neck. "I don't want you to go, I swear. I'll do anything."

"No. No, Rach, I don't want you to do anything to save me. Or, you know. Everything. I want to do what's right. I want to do it the right way. Otherwise, what good will it do?" Because he still believed that. He got what she was saying, and he didn't want to kill anyone to save himself. It wasn't worth it. His life wasn't worth it.

But, more than that, he couldn't have that be his legacy. He had Ashley to think about. No matter what happened, she had to know who her father was, and her father had to be a good man. No secrets. No lies. He was going to be a good father, even if it was just for a year.

He was going to do it right.


	8. Chapter 8

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting the room into a fuzzy, unreal light. A figure stood over Ashely's bassinet, and Rachel's breath almost caught in fear. But she knew the shape. And, despite everything, she wasn't afraid.

She slipped out of bed. Walked to the bassinet on soundless feet, taking her place beside the figure.

"She's beautiful," Jon said. "Can't believe how much she looks like you."

"She looks like a turtle. Some babies are adorable from birth. The rest look like turtles. I have a turtle baby."

He grinned at her, moonlight catching his eyes and turning them warm. "Maybe what makes you so beautiful is your resemblance to a turtle."

Her face grew warm. "Stop it."

"Naw, little girl. I've been so good for so long. It's kind of freeing to say what I want." He looked down at Ashley again. "I know you're going to do right by her. You and Dean are so much smarter than I was."

His hand is indistinct on the edge of the bassinet. Hers looks pale and blurry next to his. "You did as well as you could."

"No, I didn't. And I knew it. But I didn't know how to stop." He turned to the bed, where Dean was snoring softly. "He deserved so much better than I what I gave him. If I could do it again, I'd do it differently. I tried with…" He broke off abruptly with a shake of his head.

"John…"

He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Rachel. If I had done things right, Dean wouldn't have made the choice he did."

"But Sam would be dead."

He sighed heavily. "I love Sam. I really do. I didn't love him well, I didn't show him enough, but I love him. But sometimes, it's just our time. And if it was his…"

"Like it was Dean's time when you sold your soul?"

He pulled away from the bassinet with a frustrated grunt. "What does it matter? What's done is done. It's all been fucked from the start, all of us maneuvered and manipulated until we're exactly where they want us. At least you had him. You got to start your life with him. And if everything you told me is true, Dean…"

Abruptly, he disappeared.

Rachel gasped, eyes flying open. She was in bed, heart pounding, sleep gumming her eyes.

Sitting up, she looked over at the bassinet.

Nothing. Just Ashley sleeping soundly. Rachel resisted the urge to pick her up, even though she badly needed to feel the weight of her in her arms. She even needed to smell that baby smell everyone always fawned over.

But. Sometimes Ashley slept through being moved and sometimes she didn't. It was best not to risk it.

"You okay?" Dean asked, voice rough with sleep.

She nodded. "Yeah. I had a dream."

"A dream, or were you walking?" He looked around. "Where's the dreamcatcher?"

"I don't have one. I'll get one," she said, annoyed. "And, no, I wasn't dreamwalking I don't think."

"You don't think?"

"I don't… I think I was dreaming about your father. That he was here."

"Like a ghost?"

"I don' think so." She rubbed her eyes. "I think it was a dream." She threw her legs over the side of the bed and pulled the bassinet closer to the bed. "What time are you leaving tomorrow?" she asked, running a finger over Ashley's cheek.

"Early. I'd like to hit the road by seven." He moved over to make room for her to curl up against him. His body was warm and inviting. "The sooner I go, the sooner I'll be back."

She snorted and rested her head against his shoulder. "It'll be too long no matter what."

"I can stay."

"No." She rolled onto her back and pulled him half on top of her. His weight was warm and comfortable. It made her relaxed and sleepy. "None of us will be easy unless both you and Sam look through the storage locker. And you and Sam need time alone. You haven't had a chance since…" Ashley was born. Sam died. Dean had sold his soul.

She left it unsaid.

He curled an arm under her shoulders. "I'll make him drive. Catch up on some sleep."

"Bastard."

He chuckled. "You could go."

"I almost want to take you up on that." She yawned, feeling like weights were attached to her eyelashes. "But I can't do that. I'd be a worse mother than I already am."

"You're not a bad mother." He kissed her between the eyes. "You don't see the way you look at her."

"Like she might bite me?"

"You light up. When she's not around, you always look worried and that melts away when you have her."

"I don't feel it."

"How do you feel about her?"

She sighed and thought about it. It was hard to figure out how she felt in general and specifically about Ashley. In the moment, there was always so much to think and do, there wasn't time to think about how she felt. After, everything was a black hole, with any feels wrapped up in cotton. Distant.

"Mostly worried Vaguely panicked. Exhausted."

"I hear you on that." He scratched between her shoulder blades. "You like her, though. Right?"

That stopped her. She'd been so busy trying to love her baby, she hadn't ever thought about liking her. She searched inside her, trying to find the space in her that liked her baby. She thought about how Ashely felt in her arms. How it felt to hold her close while feeding her. They way Ashley looked at her so intently, how her little legs kicked when Rachel was near. How she knew Rachel, even as young as she was.

A little warmth lit in her chest. "I guess," she said after a moment. Hesitantly, but with some conviction.

She must have said it convincingly enough, because Dean smiled and said, "You see how adorable she is."

"She looks like a turtle." Hadn't she just said that to someone?

"And adorable turtle. Admit it."

Rachel rolled her eyes, smile tugging her lips.

"Admit it!" He tickled her side.

She laughed. "All right! She is a vaguely adorable-like turtle baby."

He stopped tickling and kissed her. "She is the most adorable turtle baby in the world. You'll see. Once you get a good night's sleep."

As if on cue, Ashley made a distressed gurgle.

Rachel sighed. "Until then, it's sore nipples and sleep deprived hallucinations for me." She sat up and plucked the baby from the bassinet.

"I'm sleep deprived."

"You get to go on a fabulous one week vacation to your father's storage locker. I'll bet you go, you find out the thieves were stopped by some clever anti-thief deterrent system left by John, and you're back, rested and refreshed by Saturday."

She really should know better by now.

* * *

"But you have your own house," Bobby said in Rachel was sure he'd insist wasn't a whine. "Why do you have to be at mine? Why do you have to clean mine?"

"Because." Rachel picked up a book and wiped down the cover. The title was in Latin—Something Demons Something Something. She set it aside in her to-read pile and picked up the next book.

"That ain't a reason, girl."

She looked up and raised her eyebrow. "You want your granddaughter to visit you, don't you? To be able to be over here without having to worry about a pile of books falling on her or her opening the wrong box and cursing herself? Well. Then we need to baby-proof your house."

Bobby glanced at the area Rachel had cleared for Ashley, who was sitting in her bouncy seat, intensely studying the dangling toys. She didn't have the coordination to reach for them yet, but the colors and presence seemed to stimulate her. Every few minutes, she'd start breathing heavily and kicking and waving her arms.

"I can visit you." But he said it with a minimal amount of conviction.

Rachel shook her head. "Bobby, I need your books. Mine got turned to porn. So, I come here. She comes with me. Your place gets dusted."

"Fine." He crossed the room and crouched in front of Ashley. "Your mom is a stubborn, willful girl who is going to drive me crazy," he told her seriously.

Ashley redirected her gaze from the red triangle to his face. After a moment, she let out a stream of drool and began kicking hard.

"See? She likes you." Rachel set down the dust rag and went to Ashley to wipe her up. "Do you like Grandpa? You like him, huh? Don't you?"

"Rachel…"

"You're the closest thing she has," Rachel said. Her throat tightened and she refused to look at him. "I want her to have at least one grandparent."

He didn't say anything. Just put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"So." She cleared her throat. "So, uh. I know you have a system. To organize your books. How do you want them?"

He pulled his hand away. "Well. I put anything with spells or rituals together. Usually over there." He waved vaguely to the right. "Lore, legends, myths go over…"

Rachel's cell rang. "Hey, Dean," she answered.

"Don't get mad."

"Don't give me a reason to get mad."

"The good news is, we found what was stolen. It was this rabbit's foot Dad kept in a curse box. We got it back."

"And why shouldn't I get mad?"

"Sam touched it, but now he has incredible luck. I had him do a bunch of scratchers, and we're up something like fifteen grand."

It was amazing how, no matter how exhausted one was, there was always another level one could get. No, this wasn't exhaustion. This was weariness. Soul weary. "Oh, honey. You're rich now. Fifteen grand is nothing. Oh, yeah, and why would you touch something your father kept in a curse box?"

Bobby swore. "What did they touch?"

"A rabbit's foot."

Bobby grabbed her phone. "You touched it?"

"Sam touched it, not me!" Dean's tinny voice protested.

Rachel took the phone and put it on speaker.

"Damn it, Sam!"

"We didn't know!" God, Sam sounded as little-boy defensive as Dean. Bobby could protest all he wanted, but he was their father now, scolding included. "Dad never told us about this thing."

"You have a serious problem. That rabbit's foot ain't no dime store notion. It's real Hoodoo, Old World stuff." He looked at Rachel and pointed to the section of the room that had rituals and spells."

She pointed to the lore section with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head irritably and said, "Made by a Baton Rouge conjure woman about a hundred years ago."

Ah. He knew the lore. They needed a cleansing ritual.

"It's a hell of a luck charm," Sam said.

"It's not a luck charm, it's a curse! She made it to kill people, Sam!" As Rachel looked through books, Bobby explained how the curse worked. When Sam swore he wouldn't lose the charm, Bobby's face turned purple and he bellowed, "Everybody loses it!"

Ashley, intent on her reflection in the dangly mirror, jerked. A moment later, she started screaming.

"Nice work, Bobby," Dean said.

"If you boys weren't so careless, I wouldn't have had to yell." He looked at Rachel as she unstrapped Ashley. "I'll look through my library and make a few calls. Just sit tight." He hung up the floor.

"How long do you give them before they lose it?"

"Longest I ever heard anyone keeping it is a couple days," Bobby answered. "I give them ten minutes."

Sounded about right. "I'm going to take her upstairs. When she's asleep, I'll come back down and help out."

"Sorry about scaring her."

She shook her head. "I would have yelled, too." She grabbed the diaper bag, lifted Ashely into her arms, and went upstairs.

* * *

Somewhere during the changing, feeding, rocking, singing, and soothing, Rachel managed to get Ashley to sleep. Unfortunately, at least from a needing to research point of view, she fell asleep too, both of them conked out on the bed she and Dean used to share. Rachel woke up three hours later, disoriented. She'd gotten used to waking up in her own bed or couch.

Bobby had unearthed a bassinet from his attic. It was set up in the corner of the room. Rachel put Ashely inside and left her, door opened, then headed back downstairs.

Bobby was in the kitchen, heating up some stew. "Well, Sleeping Beauty, there's good news and bad news."

She rubbed her eyes. "Let me guess. They lost the foot."

"It was stolen by a woman named Bela Talbot."

That rang a bell. She sorted through her mental filing cabinet until she came across something. "Bela… She's an occult dealer, right? About my age? English accent?"

He nodded. "She nabbed it off Sam about a half hour after we talked."

"Great. So, Sam's a dead man walking. And the good news?"

"I found a cleansing charm that ought to do it, but they have to get it back first."

Rachel tugged her braid. "Maybe she's willing to sell."

"You want to buy something that she stole from you?"

"To save Sam? I mean, it's not a great option, but it might be the only way. Or, at least the fastest way. Do you have her info?"

"Ain't you going to call Dean first?"

She gave him a look that politely suggested that he might be out of his mind. He sighed, nodded and went into the other room.

"Here. I gave this to Dean," he said, coming back a moment later. He handed her a sheet of paper. "Hope it's current."

Rachel pulled her phone out of her pocket. Dialed the number.

Bela answered on the third ring. "Hello?" She sounded angry.

"Hi, Bela? My name is Rachel. I'm interested in buying an occult item you have."

"Is this Rachel Winchester?"

Shit. "Uh…"

"I am going to rip the fingernails out of your husband's hand one buy one and sell them to a Hoodoo priestess so she use them to place a curse on him."

"Uh…"

"He stole the damn foot! This is war, and he is dead. I'm not going to rest until I have it back."

Well, now buying it didn't sound like such a great idea, since Dean already had it. Rachel hated to throw money away, but she really didn't want Bela as an enemy. Her father had always refused to deal with Bela.

"Look," he'd said, "we're dealing with dangerous, supernatural artifacts. People are going to come in contact with creatures during the dealings. But Bela seeks them out. She's using trapped spirits for her own gain. I've never known her to do anything out of charity or to help someone in trouble. I don't like her and I don't like the way she does business."

Normally, Rachel would follow her father's lead, but times were desperate. They didn't need Bela as an enemy. Maybe offering to pay for the foot would assuage her bruised feelings.

Rachel took a deep breath. "I'm sorry Dean acted so rashly. I could…"

Bella hung up.

"Great." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently Bela doesn't appreciate the tables being turned." She dialed Dean.

It rang once before Dean picked up. "Hey, Rach, what's up?" He sounded unbearably chipper.

"Bela is in a murderous rage over you. Tread carefully."

"Baby, right now, Bela couldn't hurt me if I was gift wrapped and delivered to her door."

She rubbed her forehead and looked at Bobby, shaking her head. "You touched the foot."

Bobby threw his hands up in the air and shook his head.

"It was a calculated risk. Figured the only way to be sure I could get out alive was to touch it. Now, I'll get Sam and we'll destroy the thing."

She almost said they should try the luck of the foot against the crossroad demon. If it was as powerful as all that, it might work.

But she knew it wasn't worth the risk. Not really. And with Bela after them, it was best to just destroy the thing.

"Call when you're done. So I know you're safe."

"Will do."

She set down her phone. She drummed her fingers on the table, deep in thought, while Bobby ladled stew into two bowls. He set one in front of her and sat down.

Rachel chewed on her bottom lip a moment, her stomach twisting up in knots. Without looking at him, she asked, "How bad would it be to call the demon now while we have the foot?"

"I thought you didn't want Dean around when you did that."

"But he would have good luck. Or, maybe I could take the foot, just for the meeting."

"And leave Dean with the world's worst luck?" Bobby shook his head. "The demon is sure to take advantage of that."

"Okay, so Dean keeps the foot and goes with me."

"Then you risk the demon taking it somehow. Not only would that leave Dean vulnerable, but you really want Hell to have that kind of luck?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, you're right. It was just a thought." She rubbed her forehead. "Maybe while they're gone, I should skip state and call the demon."

"And leave the baby with who, exactly? Missouri left this morning."

"You and Nathan…"

"Honey, I am not equipped to watch your baby and brother both, and I am not comfortable with just Ashley, either. Plus, even if you're not planning on using it, I think you better take the Colt with you."

"I don't want it to think I'm threatening it."

"And no one wants you defenseless."

"I'll have a cross. And holy water. I'll trap it in the devil's trap. And I'll exorcise it."

"Those are all defensive weapons. You'll need something offensive, just in case."

"Does Nathan count as offensive?" she asked dryly.

Bobby gave her a look.

"Fine. I'll take the Colt. You and Nathan come with me and stay at a hotel nearby. You'll be with Ashley a couple hours, tops."

He looked at her, side-eyed. "We can't do it now. Sam took the Colt with him."

"What?"

He shrugged. "Said it should come with them just in case."

She slammed her hands on the table. "I don't want him alone with the Colt. He's planning on killing the crossroad demon. We need information."

"It's not like he's by himself."

"Does Dean know Sam has it?"

He frowned. "I'm sure Sam told him."

Frustration bubbled up in Rachel. A headache pressed behind her eyes. "I better warn Dean. Sam and I aren't on the same page right now. I want Dean at least to know."

Bobby took her phone before she could pick it up. "Let's do one crisis at a time. Let them get rid of the foot, first. Then worry about the Colt. If Sam's really cursed, the last thing he's going to be doing right now is call up a demon or play with a gun. You've got time."

She forced herself not to snatch the phone back. "You're probably right." Carefully unclenching her fist, she picked up her spoon and dipped it into the spoon. She only hoped Sam would wait a few days before calling the demon. At least until Dean knew about the Colt.


	9. Chapter 9

The problem with being a hunter and knowing about demons and ghosts is that you ran into them everywhere. Usually, they were hurting innocent people, and one thing Dean couldn't stand was seeing innocent people victimized by the supernatural. Which meant, as much as he wanted to get home to see his little girl, he couldn't leave when people were being hurt.

When he'd first held Ashley in his arms, Dean had thought his hunting days were behind him. He really had. Maybe if he hadn't sold his soul, it'd be different. But with the limited time he had, he'd have to give it up.

At least, that's what he had thought. But now, sitting in a bar in Elizabethville, Ohio, feeling like he was in Vegas and knowing that demons were possessing people, he just didn't know how he was supposed to walk away. Especially now that it was personal, now that one of them had killed Richie.

Righteous anger didn't make being away from his baby girl any easier.

"So, she was laying on the floor while I was researching," Rachel was saying over the phone. "I had music playing, and _Smoke on the Water_ came on. And she lifted her head off the floor and looked at the speakers. Her legs started kicking, too."

He smiled, feeling both proud and soul-sick. "Did she smile?"

"No, but she's getting there. She was breathing heavy and drooling up a storm."

"How long did she hold her head up?"

"A few seconds. But she did it again, later. It's… it's kind of amazing," she said, voice soft.

He smiled, a rush of love flooding through him. He missed them both so much, his arms ached from their absence. "Isn't she?" He swallowed a few times before he spoke again. "Have a camera ready for that smile."

"I will. And I sent some pictures of her holding her head up, too. And a few other pictures I took today."

Dean smiled, not feeling it, and said, "I'll look when I get back to the room."

"You getting anywhere on the case?"

"Sort of." He glanced at Casey, the hot bartender. He couldn't tell if she was listening or not, so he just said, "Sam's checking out a lead. I've got one of my own."

"Have you checked the Colt?"

"He has it right now. Just in case. But, yeah, I checked the bullets before going to bed and when we woke up. He hasn't used it yet." He drummed his finger on the bar. "Would it really be so bad if he did use it?"

"Dean. I want to believe that killing the demon will get you out of your contract, but I don't know. Not yet. We need to do more research. And, until we know for sure, that's just an innocent body that Sam's going to kill."

"Not just."

"No, you're right. But there's an innocent there, too."

Over the phone, he heard Ashley start to cry.

"I should go. Be careful, okay?"

"I'm always careful."

"I love you."

"I know."

She snorted. "Night, Han Solo." She hung up.

As Dean put the phone back into his pocket, a highly made up, scantily clad woman sidled up to him.

"I got to tell you, after your heroics last night," she breathed into his ear, "every woman in this bar wants to eat you up."

Dean flashed back to the night before, when he'd body slammed a man who'd just shot another in the head. A man Dean had been sure was possessed. Who just walked up to another man and shot him in a bar, even if he was sleeping with his wife?

But the man had been clean and Dean had been hailed as a hero. Even got some free drinks out of it.

"Well, hey. Anybody could have tackled that guy. And wrestled the gun away. And prevented mass murder." He shot a look at Casey again, who was now hovering a few feet away pretending to clean some glasses.

The woman smiled. "Here's what I'm going to do. Normally, I charge four hundred dollars a night. Why don't we call it an even deuce and get out of here?"

He wasn't even tempted, but the ring he'd strung on his necklace next to his amulet burned him anyway. As if just being propositioned by a prostitute was enough to be cheating.

Of course, he was trying to get Casey to pick him up and take him back to her place. That was a bit closer to cheating, even if all that was waiting at the end of the line was a devil's trap and an exorcism.

"What do I look like?" he asked, going for offended.

"What do I look like?"

He valiantly held back his, "An ageing whore" as she stormed away.

And, bam, there was Casey, laughing at him as she said, "Did you just strike out with a hooker? How does that even work?"

He trailed is eyes over her, letting a slow smile cross his face. "Well, I just told her I had a thing for the bartender. It was pretty easy."

She leaned closer, displaying her cleavage for him. "Who says the bartender is available?"

"That's a good question." He licked his lips and, even though he knew Casey wasn't going to admit to killing his friend, asked, "You got something going with some guy, you know, about yea tall, wears a sweat suit?"

She just blinked at him, almost innocent except for the predatory gleam in her eyes. "Who?"

"My mistake." He moved in closer, until their heads almost touched. "What do you say you and me grab a drink after your shift?"

Her smile was pure cat in the cream as she purred, "Why wait when we can go right now?"

Dean smiled, ignoring the sick feeling in his gut. He didn't need the Colt for this. He already had the devil's trap in place, and then he could exorcise her, no problem. Had Dad's journal with him all ready to go. He'd be fine.

Quick. Easy. Sam would get Trotter, and then they'd book it back home. Where he belonged.

* * *

"So. Insurance investigating. You enjoy the work?" Father Gil asked as Sam drummed his fingers against his knee. He wished he could be the one driving. Father Gil was sticking to the speed limit, and it was setting Sam's teeth on edge.

Not only that, but there was a buzzing itch growing under his skin. He figured it was just worry. Before Sam had gone to check Trotter out—Trotter, who'd ended up not being a demon, go figure—Dean had said he'd be at the bar. He'd been worried about his friend Richie, yeah, and said he was going to check out a few things, but that he'd meet Sam back at the bar.

Instead, he'd gone off with the bartender. And considering Dean would never cheat on Rachel, that had to mean Casey was a demon. And Sam had the Colt.

"Yeah," he answered Father Gil. The buzz grew stronger, concentrating at the base of his neck. "Yeah, yeah. I like being able to help people."

Father Gil smiled. "Ever think about doing anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Mmm, anything. You seem like a pretty smart kid." He tilted his head and looked thoughtful. "Somehow I see you out in front of the pack." His gaze turned really intense, making Sam's skin crawl. "You could do some great things."

"I don't know. I like what I'm doing, I guess."

Father Gil leaned closer. "You sure about that? What about your brother? Does Dean get into trouble a lot?"

Sam laughed. "You could say that."

"And you enjoy being your brother's keeper?"

"It's not like that." He shook his head, partly in denial, but partly to try and clear it. It felt like a fog was settling over it, making it hard to think. "We look out for each other. It's not a one way thing."

"Maybe. Or maybe, even though it's mutual, you're still being held back. Haven't you ever felt like there was something else you were supposed to be doing? Something else you were born for?"

"Like destiny?"

He nodded. "Something like that." Then he nodded at a turn off ahead. "There it is."

Sam clenched his fists as they made the turn and pulled to a stop in front of a large, ramshackle house. He was out of the car the moment it rolled to a stop, before the engine even cut off. "Dean?" He sprinted to the door and pounded on it. "Dean!"

"Doesn't look like anyone's home," Father Gil said.

"Check that way." He pointed off to one side and started the opposite. "Dean!"

"Sam!"

The clenching in his heart eased. He followed the voice. "Dean?"

"Sammy, down here! The basement's caved in."

He looked around and found a grate in the ground, Dean's face looking up through it. He crouched. "Dean. Hey, hold on, okay? We're coming."

"Who's we?"

"I'm here with the priest."

Dean turned and looked back someone out of Sam's eye line. Then he turned. "Sammy, be careful."

The buzzing exploded in his head. Sam turned just in time to see Father Gil behind him, eyes black.

"Shit," he swore, going for the Colt.

Before he could reach it, he was thrown away from the basement, back toward the car. He slammed against it, back screaming in pain. Stunned, he slid to the ground.

"Sam, I think it's time we had a little talk about your future," Father Gil said. He began advancing on Sam with slow, measured steps.

"If this is where you tell me all the ways you're going to make me suffer, you can just keep your mouth shut." Sam pulled himself to standing.

"You're my leader. My general. Why would I want to make you suffer?"

"What?"

Father Gil spread his arms out, placating. At the same time, he reached out and froze Sam in place. "Sam, I am a member of your army. I escaped hell to fight in your war."

"I don't have a war," Sam gritted out, struggling against the demonic hold.

"Of course you do. You have the war Azazel left for you. To help free our Lord, Lucifer, so he can raze the earth and make it our paradise."

"Paradise for demons?"

"Haven't we suffered enough?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm not your leader."

"But you are. Out of all Azazel's children, you are the one who is left. Inside you is the potential and power to win this war." He moved even closer. "I know you've been raised to think you can't do this. That you shouldn't. So I will be the one to bring you to where you should be and show you the light." He raised his hand. "Don't be afraid."

As the hand descended toward him, something in Sam broke. He felt the shatter in his mind, something crumbling to pieces, giving way to…

A rush of power roared through him. Without realizing it, he broke the hold Father Gil had on him. Then he _reached_ out and flung Father Gil away.

The demon hit the front porch. He landed badly and Sam could heard the crack of his head against the stone steps.

Sam stood there, stunned at what he just did. He stayed stunned as Father Gil stood up again and adjusted his head back on his broken neck as if it were nothing.

"Maybe I'll need reinforcements after all," he said. He turned and kicked the door open, disappearing into the house.

Legs weak from the power he'd just extended, Sam went after them. He felt like a baby horse, standing for the first time. He even stumbled a couple times. His hand shook as he pulled the Colt from the holster and held it ready.

The basement was a mess, rock and wall everywhere. Father Gil had punched through it and now had Dean by the throat.

Without thinking, Sam lifted the Colt and shot him.

Light suffused the body, like he was burning up from the inside. He dropped Dean and fell to the floor, twitching and smoking as he died.

Sam turned to the bartender.

"Sam, wait!" Dean said.

He fired.

Casey went down, burning and smoking, too.

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean demanded. He stormed to Sam and pulled the Colt out of his hand.

"They were demons."

"Demons wearing people. We could have saved them."

"Father Gil was dead. Broken neck." He looked at Casey. "I doubt she was much better." He swallowed. He felt hollow and empty. Shaky, too, like he hadn't eaten or had run too much. In fact, he felt all over exhausted.

"You don't now…"

"Let's just go." Sam rubbed his hand over his face. "Let's just go home, okay? What's done is done."

"Yeah, sure. What's done is done."

* * *

They push the ride back home, stopping only when absolutely necessary. Sam felt off kilter the entire way. His head ached and his hands trembled. He had to keep them clenched in his lap to hide the shaking. Dean never said anything about it, so maybe he didn't notice. But even he felt off. He was angry at Sam for using the Colt. Sam didn't get it. Father Gil had been dead. He'd seen it happen himself, although he hadn't told Dean how it had happened. Bad enough he'd used the Colt. To tell Dean that he'd killed Father Gil using his powers would be worse.

So, Sam kept silent, and Dean kept silent, and it was an angry, silent thirteen hour ride back to Sioux Falls.

It was evening when they made it back to the house. The air was warm and heavy, the setting sun casting a warm glow around the house. Or maybe it just seemed that way to Sam because it was home. After so many years of moving from place to place, of not having a permanent location, he had one now. And, unlike his tiny apartment that he'd shared with Jess, this was large and welcoming and filled with family.

The tight, hard knot that had formed in his chest eased. He grabbed his duffle and sprang out of the car, eager to be inside.

The front door banged open. Nathan, hand resting lightly on Ginger's back, came out. "Welcome back, strangers. How…"

Sam cut him off with a fierce hug. It knocked Nathan off balance, sending him backwards a few steps. He hit the side of the house before his arms came up and gripped Sam back, just as tightly, grounding him.

"I guess somebody missed me," he murmured in Sam's ear. He rubbed Sam's back. "You okay?"

"Fine," he breathed, reaching to cradle Nathan's face. Then he kissed him.

The dead, frightened part of him broke away. He deepened the kiss, sliding his arms down Nathan's. Then he wrapped his arms around him. If Nathan had been lighter, Sam would have lifted him and pressed him to the side of the house. But, short as he was, Nathan was solid with muscles he worked hard to maintain.

"Room, guys. Jesus," Dean said as he squeezed past them.

Sam ignored him. Instead, he moved his hands back up Nathan's body and cupped his cheek. "You busy?"

Nathan grinned. "I think I can fit you in. Let me ditch the dog. I'll meet you upstairs."

Sam nipped Nathan's lower lip and released him.

It took Nathan less than five minutes to get upstairs. Sam grew restless in that short time. There was an achy, stretched feeing in his chest, and he felt incredibly unsettled. Something wasn't right in his body. He'd felt this way ever since he'd used his power. The scary thing was, Sam wasn't sure if the answer was to leave them alone or use them again. It was a hollow itch, one he wanted to dig his fingers in and scratch. If he just reached out, just a little, and maybe knocked something over or bent something… maybe, just maybe, he'd start to feel better.

But what would he turn into if he did?

"All right," Nathan said, shutting the door behind him. "I'm all yours."

Sam smiled and pulled Nathan toward him. They tumbled to the bed.

Sex with Nathan had always been good. There was a certain chemistry between them, and comfort that Sam hadn't found with anyone besides Jess. Both of them were playful in bed. Curious. Innovated. Even before they'd started having full blown sex and had just been making out, it'd been interesting.

This was intense. Hard and fast and almost desperate. That restlessness in Sam spurred him on, and Nathan seemed almost overwhelmed by the end. He lay against the bed, sweat slick and limp, eyes closed, chest heaving.

"Wow." His voice was hoarse, even though both of them had been muffling any sounds, mindful of the baby.

Sam carefully pulled out of Nathan. He took off the condom, tied it, and dumped it into the trash.

Nathan rolled over and pressed against Sam's side as he settled down. "Where did that come from?"

He shrugged and settled an arm around Nathan. "Just missed you, I guess."

"So romantic." He pressed a kiss to Sam's chest. "Whatever it was, keep it up." He kissed Sam again. "I'm going to clean up.

"Sure." He met Nathan's mouth with a long, lingering kiss, then released him.

The door had barely close behind Nathan when it happened. Like an earthquake, the power shook out of Sam. The air around him vibrated, power fizzing through his blood.

Anything loose—books lamps, picture frames, even the bed—trembled. Sam held his breath, reaching out frantically, trying to reign it in.

It only got worse.

He sat up. Took a few deep breaths. He threaded both hands through his hair, holding his head tightly. He breathed.

The fizzing in his blood eased. The power faded. The shaking stopped.

"Sam?"

He looked up. Nathan was in the door, form blurry and hazy through the film of tears in Sam's eyes.

"What's going on?" Nathan asked.

He swiped at his eyes. "I'm not sure," he lied. "I don't know what happened. I just had this surge and everything shook."

Nathan moved closer to the bed. "Has that happened before?"

He shook his head. "No." Then he corrected himself. "Once. A few years ago. When Dean and I were facing another one of Azazel's recruits." Because he refused to call himself one of Azazel's children, no matter how much other people did. "I pushed something. It felt like that."

"Any idea why it happened now?" Nathan climbed on the bed. He reached out, searching for Sam. When his hands connected, he ran his hands up Sam's shoulder and caressed gently.

Sam didn't know why he was lying. Except he only had the powers because of Azazel's blood, and everyone who'd used them had gone evil. If he admitted that he'd used them on purpose, that'd he'd been trying to use them even before he'd thrown Father Gil aside, that would be like admitting he was going evil. Right?

"No," he said. "No, I don't…" His voice broke.

Nathan slid his arms around Sam, making soft, shushing noises. "Well. Maybe it was the sex."

"Nathan…"

"I'm not kidding. There's some magic, some rituals, that need sex. Or strong emotion. Maybe it was just strong enough to trigger something." He ran his fingers through Sam's hair. "Don't worry." He pressed a kiss to Sam's temple. "Don't worry about it. These powers are a part of you. It's okay…"

"I don't want…"

"Sam." He tightened his grip on Sam. "You've seen what happens to the rest. And you're vigilant against it. You won't turn like that."

He slid his arms around Nathan and buried his face in his neck. "The demon I killed back in Ohio wanted to take me to the army. He wanted me to lead this army to free Lucifer."

"That's not going to happen. Sam, demons will say anything to get under your skin. Anything. Why do you think Dean sold his soul for a year? Because the demon knew exactly what to say to get him to do it." He pulled away and sat back on his heels. "This demon was blowing smoke out of his ass."

"I don't think it was. I think it really believed I'm his leader."

Nathan shrugged. "Azazel believed things about you, too. But he was wrong. So was this demon." He fumbled for Sam's hand before threading their fingers together. "You're going to be fine, Sam. I believe in you."

* * *

"Room, guys, Jesus," Dean said as he squeezed past Sam and Nathan who were engaged in a major lip lock on the front porch. It wasn't that he minded his little brother exploring the tonsils of another man, he just wished they wouldn't do it in a way that inconvenienced him. It seemed like every time they decided to get freaky, it was in a doorway or directly in Dean's path.

Sure, they missed each other, but Dean had a baby to see. A baby that was holding her head up. A baby on the verge of her first smile. That was more important than a little smooch.

Rachel was sprawled out on the bed asleep when he got inside. He quietly closed the door and went to the bassinet.

Ashley was inside, eyes closed, sucking on her pacifier. Her long lashes fanned out over her chubby cheeks, and she was so beautiful, it made Dean's heart ache. He bent over and softly pressed a kiss to her forehead and inhaled her sweet, milky baby-scent. She looked bigger than she had a week ago, and he was pissed at himself for leaving her in the first place.

It was stupid to regret his decision now. It was over, he was back, he'd only lost a week. Except, he only had eleven months left on his deal. He'd lost out on part of Ashley's life to check out a storage locker, and it wasn't like he had years to make it up.

That was it. He was done. No more hunting. No more unexpected trips. Sam could deal with it now. He was staying home.

Even as he swore it to himself, Dean knew it wasn't going to happen. It wasn't who he was. Dad had seen to that.

He sighed softly, slipped off his shoes, and climbed on the bed next to Rachel. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box he'd been carrying around for over a week.

He'd found it in Dad's stuff in the locker. Tucked away with things like their birth certificates, the keys to their old place in Lawrence, and a couple of heavy duty protection spells. There'd been a note with it, short and terse,

 _Dean. This was your mother's ring. Do what you want with it._

The ring was beautiful: a silver band with a small sapphire stone. It was simple, but pretty, and Dean remembered his mother wearing it every day of his life. She wore it on her right hand, and when she'd run her hand through his hair or touch his face, he'd feel the skin-warmed metal against his skin. He could even smell the lotion she used to wear, the soft scent that meant she was near, when he held the ring.

He had no idea how his dad still had it. She'd usually taken it off at night when she went to bed, so maybe they'd found it in the wreckage of the house. How they'd found it or when Dad got it, Dean didn't know. But he had it now.

He couldn't give it to Rachel as an engagement ring. They were already married. No one did that, right?

People did have ceremonies after they were married. They'd talked about it before, but had never gotten around to it. It'd never seemed that important. Only now, with hell looming on the horizon, it did seem important. It'd be something to remember. Something good, for both him and Rachel.

He sighed and pressed his forearm against his eyes. God, when had he turned into such a girl? He never thought he'd ever get married, and now he was thinking about having a wedding?

Of course, he never thought he'd be a dad, either. He'd wanted it, but wanting and doing were two different things. And now, he had a little girl. And he couldn't help thinking that it'd be good for her having pictures of her parents getting married. Hell, having pictures of him, so she could at least know what he looked like. Having a ceremony wouldn't be just for him. It'd be for all of them.

On the other hand, he couldn't imagine getting up in front of other people just to say something really personal, like how much Rachel meant to him. He loved her. Sam and Bobby and Ellen and Jo knew that. He'd told them. But it was different, standing there, telling Rachel and having other people hear it. Just thinking about it made him hot with embarrassment.

And then, what would he say? The whole, "To have and hold, til death do us part"? Because, under the circumstances, it seemed a little bit like a dare. Like they were tempting fate. But any of his own thoughts about her were too private to share.

God, why wasn't there an easy answer?

Rachel rolled onto her side and burrowed into Dean. "You back?" she said, sounding like she was still half asleep.

"No. You're just imagining me."

"Don't. I've been hallucinating that you're here after her midnight feeding. Kept rolling into pillows and thinking it was you." She lifted her head and aimed a kiss.

He intercepted to make sure it landed. "Just after the midnight feedings? Not the two o'clock feedings?"

She opened her eyes. "She sleeps through them now. Goes from midnight to almost five. I'm getting sleep."

"High five."

"Fuck that." She pulled him down and kissed him again, deeper this time. "How'd the trip go?" She rested her head on his chest.

"Well. After Sam killed the demons, it was uneventful. Don't think we spoke two words to each other on the way back."

"Don't be too hard on him. You were in danger."

"Not immediate danger. And, okay, so he says that the priest was already dead, but Casey wasn't. We maybe could have saved the girl and sent the demon back to hell. But he didn't even try, and he was so cold about it." He shook his head. "It wasn't like Sam."

"You don't know what he went through while you were missing. He was with the priest demon for a while." She traced her fingers over his heart. "Maybe he said something that pushed Sam. You know what demons are like. They always know the right thing to say. And with you missing, maybe it was just too much for Sam."

Some of Dean's defensiveness died away. Because, yeah, he knew demons. He knew what they could do. Just because Casey had been almost decent didn't mean Father Gil hadn't tweaked a few nerves. Hell, Casey had tweaked a few of his nerves a couple times. The difference was, he'd been with her for hours and she hadn't been pushing all that hard. Who knew what her partner did, though.

"Maybe." Next time he saw Sam, he'd extend some olive branch. He wouldn't apologize or anything, but he'd let Sam know they were cool. That he got it.

"So," Rachel said, running her fingers over his side. "Did you get me anything good from your Dad's locker?"

As discreetly as he could, he slid the ring box back into his pocket. Now was not the time. "I brought back all the books he had. He also had a bunch of documents or something. I basically brought you anything on paper."

"Yay." She smiled. "Anything on crossroad demons?"

"I didn't look. Just grabbed. After we burned that rabbit's foot, I just wanted to get home." He ran his hand through her hair. "Find out anything new on them?"

"Bobby doesn't have much. Either he just hasn't gotten lucky or the lore is sparse. I'm leaning toward the latter. Another reason I want to talk to the demon: maybe I can add to what's out there."

"You are such a dork."

"'Course the demon might not be forthcoming without a deal. Which I'm not going to make." She sighed. "I'm doing it by the end of the week. I'll leave milk for Ashley, you stay with her, and I'll drive out of state. I know Ruby said that we might be able to summon the demon outside a crossroad, but I want to make sure."

Dean frowned and threaded their fingers. He hated this plan so much, hated the idea of Rachel being anywhere near this thing. But she was so determined. And it wasn't like Dean had any ideas on how to break the deal. They needed information.

"What are you going to say to it, anyway?"

"I haven't planned it all out yet."

"What draft are you on?"

"Third."

He smiled fondly. "It doesn't have to be perfect."

"It'd better be close."

"Rach. What if you don't get any information? What if we can't break this thing. What do we do then?"

"Every deal can be broken."

"But what if this can't?"

She sat up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

"Dean…"

He sat up. "I wasted a week away from Ashley. And it's got me thinking. I mean, what if we contact demon after demon and never find out how to break the deal? What if I spend months chasing lead after lead and… and nothing? Just wasted months and my baby growing up without me?"

"She's going to grow up without you if we don't break the deal."

"Yeah, but I'm here now." The words felt like they were being ripped from him. It hurt, burning as they came up, but they needed to be said. "I have time with her now. You can't promise me anything after my year is up. No one can."

Her eyes filled with tears. "So, what? You want me to stop? You want me to just give up? To accept that I just have eleven more months with the love of my life?"

Crap. "No." He wrapped his arms around her. "I don't want you to give up. I just… God, I don't know. I don't know what the right answer is."

Her tears seeped through his shirt. "I can't stand the thought of you not being here, Dean. I don't want to you go to hell."

"I won't."

"You can't promise that." She pulled away and looked at him, eyes red and weepy. "Promise me you'll fight this."

"I promise." He wiped a tear away. "But you promise to be with me. I don't know what's going to happen at the end of this year. But I do know, no matter what, when that date rolls around if I haven't spent every minute I could with you and Ashley, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. As long as that is." He shrugged, feeling helpless. "I want to be a father, Rachel. And a husband." And, crap, he was doing this now. Better do it right.

He got off the bed and pulled the ring box out of his pocket. "I made a mistake when I made this deal, but I did it for the right reasons. I did it because I needed to protect you and Ashley. I love both of you. So. Be with me. Because sometimes it feels like this deal is driving a wedge in us. And you can't be with me because you're worried about a year from now."

"Dean…"

He opened the box and pulled out the ring. "Just promise. You won't spend the whole year focused the deal. Focus on me and Ashley, too." He took her right hand and slid this ring on it.

"Where did you get this?" Tears slid down her face faster as she pulled her hand back to look at it.

"It was my mom's."

Her smile was tremulous and beautiful. "I love it." She rose to her knees and wrapped her arms around him. "I love you."

"I love you too." He kissed her, soft and deep, mouth moving against hers.

When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his and ran her nails though the hair at the nape of his neck. "I know I get crazy. And wrapped up in things. I'll be here more. I promise, I will. You won't have any reason to regret anything." She kissed him again.

They kept kissing until a noise from the bassinet broke them apart. "Guess she wants that two o'clock feeding," Rachel said.

"I'll get her."

Ashley wasn't crying as he went to the cradle. She was just making noises and squirming.

"Hey, baby girl," Dean said softly, leaning over her. "What's going on with you?"

She turned her head at his voice. Looked up at him. And then, she broke out into the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen in his life.

And Dean, already in love, fell just a little bit deeper.


	10. Chapter 10

This was the right decision. It was. Of that, Sam was convinced. Well, mostly convinced. Like sixty percent convinced.

It was just that Rachel's plan was dumb. You couldn't simply ask a demon to give you information and expect them to give it to you. Demons didn't work like that. They always had the upper hand, unless you had something on them. Something like a gun that could kill them.

Rachel's plan would never work. So, here Sam was, in Iowa at midnight, standing at a crossroads. Completely alone.

Rachel was going to kill him when she found out. Dean and Nathan might, too, but he had a feeling that Dean, at least, would be more understanding. He'd never been thrilled with the idea of Rachel meeting with the demon in the first place. Hell, even the Trickster didn't want her meeting with the demon. Obviously, it was a bad idea. This was better.

At least, he was pretty sure.

He took a deep breath and quickly buried the summoning box. He hadn't even straightened when the back of his neck started to prickle.

"Well. Little Sammy Winchester. I'm touched. I mean... your brother's been to see me twice, but you? I never had the pleasure."

He took a deep breath and turned.

A beautiful woman stood there. She had long dark hair and was wearing a tight black dress. Under normal circumstances, Sam would find her attractive. But all he could see was the demon staring out of her eyes, ugly and black.

"What can I do for you, Sam?"

He pulled the Colt from under his waistband and pointed it at her. "You can beg for your life."

She grinned and batted her eyelashes at him. "We were having such a nice conversation. Then you had to go and ruin the mood."

"I were you, I'd drop the wisecracks and start acting scared."

"It's not my style." She frowned slightly, an attractive furrow appearing between her eyebrows. "The Colt's different somehow. The bullets are new. How did you do that?"

"None of your business."

She nods, a flash of understanding falling over her face. "Ruby. It had to be. She is such a pain in my ass. I can't believe you trust her, though."

"I don't."

"Really? Let's see, she helped you with the Colt. But the energy coming off it is clean, which means a human did the inscription for the bullets. They resonate pretty strongly, which means empath. Which means your boyfriend did the inscribing, but, last I heard, Azazel burned his eyes out of his head. So, Ruby must have slid into his head to help him out. You trust her enough to play around in your lover's head. Plus, we all heard about Ohio."

"That had nothing to do with Ruby."

Her smile deepened. "Really? After all this time, you decided to use your powers on your own?" She moved closer to Sam, looking up at him with big, doe eyes. "After all this time, you finally going to walk down that path, Sam? You going to embrace who… what you are?" She reached out for him.

Sam took a step back and cocked the Colt.

The demon put her hands up, placating.

"That's enough," Sam said. "I've come to make you an offer."

"You're going to make me an offer? That's adorable."

Sam took a deep breath. His palms were sweating and he could feel his power pooling at the base of his spine. He try to push it away, not wanting anything to happen. Not wanting to touch that side of him, not wanting to feel that horribly unclean feeling. He'd do this with the Colt or not at all. "You can let Dean out of his deal right now. He lives, I live. You live. Everyone goes home happy. Or, you stop breathing. Permanently."

"Oh." She laughed. "All this tough talk. I have to tell you, it's not very convincing. I mean, come on, Sam. Do you even want to break the deal?"

He had to hold his breath against the sudden spike of anger that made his power start to race up his spine. He pushed it down, teeth clenched, and asked, "What do you think?"

She began walking in a slow circle around him. Sam had to turned to keep her in his sights as she said, "I don't know. Aren't you tired of cleaning up Dean's messes? Of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren't you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother? You're stronger than Dean. You're better than him."

"Watch your mouth."

"Admit it. You're here, going through the motions. But truth is … you'll be a tiny bit relieved when he's gone."

"Shut up."

She stopped circling and faced him, eyes lit by an unholy gleam, shark's smile sharp on her face. "No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally ... be free."

"I said shut up!" he shouted. His control slipped suddenly.

The demon gasped as Sam shoved her back, her head snapping back. Her eyes went wide, but she regained her footing. "Interesting. You don't quite have a hold on that yet, to you. You know, if you weren't so worried all the time what Dean thought, you'd be free to practice. Get control. No more embarrassing slip ups. Premature eruptions." She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Sam. Look how long it's already been. There's less than eleven months left on Dean's deal. If you really cared, you'd have summoned me sooner."

"There were complications."

A look of displeasure crossed her face. "Yes. Like the entire state of South Dakota," she said flatly. "That is… unfortunate. But still…"

"Enough of this crap," Sam said. "You let Dean out of his deal now."

She flipped her hair again and shook her head. "Sorry sweetheart, but your brother's an adult. He made that deal of his own free will, fair and square. It's iron clad."

"Every deal can be broken."

"Not this one."

Sam moved closer. "Then I kill you. If you're gone, so's the deal."

"Guess again."

His heart sank. Rachel had been right. "What do you mean?"

The demon took on a lecturing air, bringing her hands together in front of her and straightening her shoulders. "I'm just a saleswoman, Sam. I got a boss like everybody. He holds the contract, not me. He wants Dean's soul, bad. And believe me. He's not going to let it go."

"You're bluffing."

"Am I? Shoot me, if it'll get you off. Exorcise me with your powers if you can. But the deal still holds, and when Dean's time is up, he's getting dragged into the pit."

It took everything Sam had not to pull the trigger right there. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here without Rachel. This was exactly the kind of information she'd been looking for and it was being given freely. Yes, he had the Colt on the demon, but he didn't think she was telling him any of this out of fear of being killed. Just to explain the futility of being killed. Only, Sam had let her goad him, get under his skin and he couldn't remember anything he was supposed to ask.

He should have stolen Rachel's list of questions before he left.

"Then who's your boss? Who holds the contract?"

She shook her head. "He's not as cuddly as me, I can tell you that."

"Who is it?"

She hesitated, eyes flicking to the Colt and back to Sam. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry Sam. But there's no way outta this one. Not this time."

No way out. Dean was going to die.

No. Absolutely not. He wasn't going to let that happen. And if this bitch couldn't help him, then…

He squeezed the trigger.

The crossroad demon died with a look of shock on her face.

"Shit," Sam swore after her body hit the ground. "Shit!" He tucked the Colt back into his waistband and went to the demon's fallen body. "Sorry," he said to the woman who'd been possessed by the demon. "I didn't have a choice."

"Did she tell you anything?"

"Shit!" He spun, still crouched down, and nearly fell over.

Ruby was a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest. "Sorry. A bit jumpy there?"

"I didn't think you'd come."

"Not while she was around. Don't worry about the girl, Sam. You did what you had to do. I'm sure she'd rather be dead than have that thing riding around in her body."

He raised an eyebrow. "Like your host?" he asked, standing.

Ruby shook her head. "I'm taking good care of this girl. Keeping her safe. When I'm done, she'll go back to her life just fine. There's no reason for you to be concerned."

He didn't reply. It wasn't that he believed her, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it. Not while she was being helpful, at any rate. Once she stopped, he'd exorcise her out of her meat suit and make sure whoever she was possessing made it safely home.

Until then, though, he'd play along.

"She told me that she didn't hold Dean's contract. That there's another demon who holds all of them, and he won't break the contract." He rubbed his forehead. "So, basically, Rachel was right. The demon was basically a ticket salesman. We need to get to the agent to get a refund. But she wouldn't tell me who that was." He looked at Ruby. "Do you have any idea who holds contract?"

Ruby shook her head. "I'll ask around, but I don't know if I'll be able to find out anything. Words getting around that I'm helping you. That doesn't exactly make me popular." She looked down at the body. "Why didn't you just use your powers to exorcise her?"

A fission of discomfort went through him at the idea. His powers had died down since killing the demon, but he could still feel it there, crawling beneath his skin. "I don't know how to do that."

"You need to try." She moved closer. "Maybe we could practice sometime."

"On you?" Curious, he tried reaching out with his powers, probing the darkness he felt inside the girl.

"No." She stepped back, looking wary. "I can bring others to you to practice on."

He thought about it. It was tempting, if only because an exorcism wouldn't result in a dead body, unless the demon had played too hard in the body.

But then he thought back to Jake and Ava and everybody else who had given in and started using their powers. They'd all gone dark so quickly. He could feel that darkness in him. It had been so easy to kill the crossroads demon. He'd done it without a second thought.

"No," he said. He couldn't risk it. He was close enough to the edge lately; he wasn't going to go over. Not down that path. "No, I'm not going to do it. I can't…" He shook his head and broke off, not wanting to justify himself to her. Instead, he asked, "Are there other crossroads demons?"

She looked disappointed but seemed to shrug it off. "Yeah, of course. I don't know the exact number, but I know there are a good number."

"If I summon another one…"

"You aren't summoning them when you bury that box. You extending an invitation. When you summon something, it has to comes. It's compelled to come. None of these demons who you've met with have been summoned. They wanted to come or have been ordered to." She looked up at him and shook her head. "No other crossroad demon is going to come tonight. They probably won't come to you at all, at least as long as you have the Colt."

His heart sank. He didn't regret killing the demon, not really. But he'd gotten almost no information and if he couldn't summon one…

He frowned, a thought occurring to him. "Rachel said she had a summoning spell."

Ruby raised her eyebrows, looking thoughtful. "I personally don't know of any spells that summon crossroads demons, but they might exist. If she has one, and it's genuine, I don't see why it shouldn't work."

"Except she's not going to let me be there, not after this."

"You did what you had to do. You had to make them know that you are serious. Rachel will get over her self-righteous stick in her ass after you figure out how to save her husband."

"I thought you knew how to save my brother."

She averted her eyes, the very definition of shifty. "I may have… overstated my ability. Look, I needed you to trust me." She looked back at Sam, advancing on him, aggressive. "And I'm going to help you. We'll save your brother. I promise you that."

He wasn't surprised. He wasn't even upset. Even angry didn't cover it. He just felt a sort of frustrated acceptance. She was a demon; of course she had liked about saving Dean.

Still. It wouldn't do to let her think she was going to take any more lies from her without it turning very bad for her. So, he moved into her, forcing her to look up, using his height as an advantage. "I will kill you if I find out you're lying."

Her lips twitched. "Wouldn't expect anything else." Instead of backing up, she moved closer, until her body was almost against his, faces close together.

Sam's heart squeezed. She was a demon, she was evil. But there was something appealing about her. Something dark and unfinished and wild.

Ruby licked her lips, her gaze settling on his.

No. No, no, absolutely not.

He stepped back and shook his head. "Are you going to help me with the body?" he asked, moving back to the fallen crossroads demon.

Ruby sighed, her disappointment obvious on her face. "Yeah. Sure."


	11. Chapter 11

Silence. It was a rare thing in this house. With four adults and one infant, there was always talking or movement or crying going on somewhere. It was only early in the morning or late at night that the house was quiet, and Rachel could hear herself think.

Even the baby was quiet right now. For once, Dean hadn't gotten up the minute Ashley started fussing, and Rachel had been able to take her downstairs by herself. It wasn't that she didn't want to Dean to help out with Ashley. Far from it. Him being as involved as he was took a huge burden off of her and made it easier not to resent Ashley for taking up all her time.

But, sometimes, she just wanted a moment alone. Just wanted to feed Ashley and not have to worry about anyone else. She wanted to feel like she was a mother, a real one, a good one. But she wanted Dean here, not off on a hunt. It didn't make sense, but when he was gone, Rachel felt like she was only taking care of Ashley because she had to. When Dean was home and Rachel had Ashley to herself, she felt like she was doing it because she wanted to. Because she was Ashley's mother and loved her.

So, here she was, in the kitchen, Ashley cradled against her body. She'd been changed, fed, cleaned, and now she was peaceful, her head against Rachel's neck, awake and calm. Rachel rubbed her back as she swayed in place, humming and looking out into the backyard at the huge tree, leaves rustling in the breeze. The moment was perfect.

She sighed and kissed Ashley on top of her head. She was getting used to this. The weight of her baby in her arms, the smell of her skin, the sound of her breathing. It was feeling less alien and less overwhelming. There was a place against her body where Ashley slotted in. They were beginning to fit together like they were supposed to.

It was actually hard to think about leaving her, even for a night. But Rachel was committed to this, to contacting the crossroad demon. It was happening. Tonight. She'd put it off long enough, long enough to do the research, long enough to give Dean a week of her being present and there and with him.

It'd been a good week, too. She'd never planned for this to be her life. She'd never really thought seriously about being a mother or having a husband. And, God knew, her marriage to Dean hadn't exactly been traditional. They'd so rarely had time to just be them and do normal things.

But this week had been so… so stereotypically normal. They'd taken Ashley to the park. They'd gotten a family picture taken. They'd stayed at home and played with her, sang silly songs to her. They'd delighted making her smile and, then, laugh. They'd spent the evenings cuddled on the couch, watching movies together. They hadn't worried about ghosts or demons or the monster of the week who was killing the locals. Instead, they'd worried about poopy diapers and giving Ashley a bath and finding the perfect snuggly toy for her to grow up with.

It'd been a good week.

But tonight was the night. Tonight she was going to the crossroad demon and getting some answers.

She heard the sharp click-clacking of dog nails on hardwood behind her. "Morning, Nathan," she said without turning from the window.

"Morning." He yawned. "Coffee?"

"The pot is brewed and warm ." She listened to him moving around, getting coffee and breakfast before turning around. Ashley's baby seat was on the table, so she put her back inside and sat across from Nathan. "Sleep well?"

Nathan shrugged. He looked tired and frustrated, lines creased into his skin and his hair sticking up every which way. "Eh. The earplugs are helping, but I'm still having trouble getting to sleep. And staying asleep. And getting comfortable. And not getting anxious when I get in bed." He sighed. "Sleep sucks."

She frowned. This had been going on for a few weeks now, Nathan having problems sleeping. He swore up and down it wasn't the baby or anything else, that it was just insomnia. And it could be. Lord knew she had trouble enough sleeping sometimes. They all did.

"Are you having nightmares?" He'd had a lot of those, too. Especially after having his eyes burned out. And then, later, his ear almost torn off by a demon wearing his boyfriend's body.

God, their lives sucked.

"No. At least, I don't remember if I am, so they must not be very scary. Just insomnia." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I'm a pain. Sam's going to decide I'm too much trouble and dump me."

"He is not. He's crazy about you. Believe me. We can hear how crazy," she said, voice flat.

Nathan blushed. "Uh, sorry about that. It, uh, helps me get to sleep."

"Whatever, I don't want to know." She reached out and bounced Ashley's foot up and down a few times, getting a smile out of her. "Four adults in one house, someone is going to hear something they don't want to." She looked back at Nathan. "It's not like Sam doesn't have his share of sleeping problems. We all do."

"I guess." He rested his chin on the table and sighed. "I just… I worry. I feel useless."

"All of us do."

"Yeah, but you all can still hunt. Even you. Me? I can't do anything."

"You can research. You can help Bobby with the little hub he's got going at his house to manage hunters. There's been a major upsurge since the devil's gate opened, and he's got a lot of authorities calling him to check to make sure the FBI agents they find combing crime scenes are legit."

Nathan dropped his forehead to the kitchen table and banged it a few times.

"I got to pretend I from Homeland Security the other day. It was fun." She reached out and combed her fingers through Nathan's hair. "You'll find you're niche. Everything is weird right now. We're all unsure of what we're doing. You'll figure it out."

He sighed. "Where's Sam, by the way? He wasn't there when I woke up. Did he go for a run?"

Rachel frowned. "I haven't seen him this morning. Are you sure he's not upstairs?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm blind, not oblivious. I'd notice a twelve food Sasquatch somewhere."

"I've been up since six. No one's been downstairs. It's just been us."

"Maybe he slipped out when you were busy."

She shook her head, a terrible suspicion growing in her. "He always sticks his head in when he goes for a run. Why wouldn't he today?"

He'd been distracted last night. They'd been watching _X-Men: The Last Stand_ , which had been truly awful. Sam hadn't said anything. Not even when Cyclops, his favorite character, had been killed. Or the entire fight scene at the end.

In retrospect, it'd been extremely out of character. And then, he'd gone to bed early.

Heart in her throat, Rachel went to the front window. "My car is gone." He'd taken her car. He'd left before she got up. He wouldn't do something stupid, right? He wouldn't…

"Maybe he went to get donuts or something." Nathan didn't sound like he believed it.

"No." A cold certainty came over her. He'd been acting weird ever since he and Dean had come back from their hunt. He'd been so insistent about the only way to go about this was to kill the demon. He was gone before any of them got up and without a word to any of them.

Turning, Rachel ran out of the room and down the hall to the library. At her insistence, they'd installed a safe above one of the shelves. She twirled through the combination and yanked it open.

The Colt was gone. "Damnit! He took the Colt!" She came back into the kitchen. Tears pressed behind her eyes. "We were supposed to go tonight."

Nathan was up, shaking his head. "This doesn't mean anything. There could have been a hunt…"

"And you slept through him getting the phone call?"

"It's possible. I slept well last night. Maybe Bobby called Sam…"

"You just said you slept, 'eh.' No, he went after the crossroad demon on his own. Shit!" She slammed her hand into the wall.

Ashley immediately started crying.

"I've got her," Nathan said. "Why don't we wait…"

"I'm already calling him," Rachel said, dialing on her phone.

It rang twice before Sam picked up. "Don't yell."

"Baby's already crying, so I can yell all I want. Sam, did you kill it?"

He sighed. "I'm almost home, so…"

"Did you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. Look, she wasn't telling me anything. I needed to show her I was serious."

"So you killed her?" Tears slipped from her eyes. She felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. "What the fuck good does that do? You can't unkill her and make her talk now."

"No, but I sent a message to the other crossroads demons."

"We don't know that there are any others."

"Yes, we do. Ruby says there are. She doesn't know how many, exactly, but there are other demons. So, now they know that we're serious when we deal with them. Hang on. I'm almost there." He hung up.

"Damn him," Rachel swore, hanging up.

"What's going on?" Dean came into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. "I heard you yelling."

"Sam took off last night and went after the crossroad demon," Rachel said. Tears were spilling down her face, and she was blaming exhaustion and hormones on them, because she was too pissed to be crying.

"He what?"

"Sam killed the crossroad demon!" She was gasping now, tears coming fast and hot. Her heart hurt, and there was a knife in her throat. "He took the Colt and summoned the demon and then he killed her. And now, my plans are fucked!" She dropped into a chair and pressed her hands against her eyes.

Dean sighed and came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Okay, calm down, Rach."

"Shut up!"

Ashely screamed.

He kissed her cheek and sat next to her. "It's going to be okay. Getting the demon to talk was a long shot anyway. And, hey, at least now it won't be around to tempt others into bad deals."

"Except Sam said Ruby told him that there are other crossroads demons." Her nose was dripping, so she wiped it on her sleeve.

Dean grabbed the a clean spit-up rag from the pile on the table and swiped her nose with it. "I trust Ruby about as far as I can throw her."

"I don't think she's lying about this," Sam said.

Rachel looked up and glared at him. "What the hell is wrong with you, Sam? You couldn't wait one night?"

He shook his head, frustration written across his face. "Your way was never going to work, Rachel."

"You don't know that! And it doesn't sound like your way worked either! Or did you manage to get Dean out of his contract after all?"

He looked from her to Dean to Nathan before dropping his eyes. "Well. No. Not exactly."

"Then what exactly did you do, Sam?" Dean asked, voice hard.

Sam ran his hand through his hair and threw his hands up. "There's one demon who holds the contracts. He holds your contract. We have to get to him in order to break yours."

"Did you happen to get a name for this demon? Or a way to summon the demon?" Dean raised his eyebrows, looking skeptical.

"Of course not."

"And you killed the demon anyway?" Rachel said. She wiped her eyes on the spit-up rag.

"Oh, what, you were going to use your powers of persuasion to convince it to give up the information?"

"I… I…"

"Exactly."

"You still killed a human," she insisted.

"She was probably dead anyway. I did her a favor."

"Next time you get possessed, do you want me to do the same favor for you?" Nathan asked. His voice was soft, as he was still holding the baby, but forceful and strong.

Sam glared at him. "Don't start, Nathan."

"No. No, I think he's got a good point, Sam," Dean said.

"I'm not getting possessed again. I have an anti-possession tattoo, remember?"

"When did we get out of the saving people business? Huh, Sam? Our job is saving people. Not killing them. We didn't have to kill Father Gil and Casey back in Ohio, but you didn't even blink. You didn't even think about it. And the girl being ridden last night? Did you ever think about her?"

Sam turned away and slammed his hand against the wall. "Father Gil was already dead, Dean!"

"You don't…"

"I killed him, okay?" He turned back, eyes bright. He shrugged, shaking his head. "I… my powers… manifested. I flung Father Gil away and he broke his neck."

"Your powers what now?"

It was getting hard to think with all the anger in the room and Ashley screaming her head off. Poor Nathan was looking overwhelmed, trying to sooth the baby and follow the conversation.

There was nothing she could do. Sam was looking broken and lost now, and Rachel was too shaky and emotional to play referee over the use of his powers.

She stood. "I'm taking Ashley upstairs. You two talk. And I'm still going tonight."

"Rachel…"

"Dean!" She licked her lips as she took the baby from Nathan. "He said there's more than one crossroad demon. I'm going to summon one, and Sam, you are not invited."

"I don't think…"

"No, you didn't think, Sam" she interrupted. "And I don't care what you think now. Maybe the demon will laugh at me. Maybe it'll try to hurt me, but I'll have it trapped in the sigil I found. If it doesn't tell me anything, well, then, oh well. At least I'll know." She adjusted Ashley against her. "Get your head on straight, Sam. This is bigger than you, and it's bigger than you can handle on your own. You had all of us telling you it was a mistake to kill the demon, and you did it anyway. I get what happened with Father Gil and Casey now, but unless you did the same thing to the crossroad demon, as far as I'm concerned, you murdered someone. And I just can't…" She shook her head, wincing as Ashley arched her back and screamed. "Talk to someone who isn't Ruby, for God's sake." She turned and left the kitchen.

* * *

Dean watch his wife leave the room before turning back to Sam. "Well, this has been a hell of a way to wake up. First she's shouting, then she's sobbing, and now you're using your powers again? I mean, what the hell, Sam? I thought they were gone."

"I thought they were, too." He sat down at the table and rubbed his eyes. "Rachel said it first. That if I was supposed to be leading some demon army, it didn't make sense that my powers would just disappear. Especially since everyone, including Azazel, knew that he was going to die. And then Ruby confirmed it."

"You never told me you talked to Ruby about your powers," Nathan said.

Sam looked over at him, then down at the table. "She said… she said that I should be able to exorcise demons with my powers. That it was part of being able to lead the army. If someone got unruly, I'd be able to send them back to hell."

"Did you try?" asked Dean, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"I poked at it a few times. Not seriously. Just to see. But it was enough to get them all riled up or something." He looked at Dean, looking like a kicked puppy dog. "I didn't mean to use them on Father Gil. I didn't even try. But my head was buzzing the whole time I was with him, and then he had me pinned down. I just… broke. I didn't try to do anything."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to believe Sam, but his brother wasn't making it easy. "Okay. So they put it in your head you might still have the powers, and you used them. What about last night? Did you even try to exorcise the crossroad demon?"

"No. Dean…" Sam broke off and looked at Nathan. "Nathan, I… I don't know what to do. I get what Rachel's talking about. I don't… I didn't want to kill that girl. But demons ride humans hard, and I doubt…"

"Stop." Dean held up a hand, his head aching. "I don't want to hear whatever excuse you've got."

Sam exhaled long and slow and closed his eyes. "I feel like I'm trapped between a rock and a hard place, Dean. I've got demon blood in me."

"What?"

"That's where I got these powers. That's what Azazel was doing the night Mom died." He looked at Dean, eyes bright again. "Azazel fed me his blood, and that's where these powers come from. But if I can use them to help…"

"I don't know if you should." Nathan crossed the kitchen to the table and sat down across from Sam and Dean. "Look, I know I said you'd be vigilant against turning out like the rest of them, but I'm not sure if you really are. Every time one of us brings up the fact that you're killing a human when you shoot a demon, you brush us off."

"That's not the same."

"I think it is."

"Listen to your boyfriend." Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. It wasn't even eight o'clock yet, and he was already exhausted. And he needed a beer.

He compromised and got up, going for the coffee. "Your powers. Do you feel like they're out of control right now, or do you have a handle on them?"

"I don't know. I poked a Ruby last night. She felt it. But I don't know if I could actually use them or not. But, like I said, last time, they just sort of came out of me."

"It happened twice," Nathan said.

Dean turned, careful not to spill his coffee "What?"

Sam was blushing furiously. "When we came back," he said, not meeting Dean's eyes, "I had a sort of… power surge. Just all this power came flowing out of me, shaking everything in the room. I couldn't stop it. It was overwhelming."

"When did this happen?"

He looked at Nathan.

Nathan's face was grim, serious. "After we had sex."

Well, Dean had asked. He rubbed his eyes again and said, "And has it happened since?"

"No." Sam shook his head. "Just those two times. I swear."

He waited a moment for Sam to confess another time. When he didn't, Dean decided to believe him. "All right, so. Now that you know how you got your powers, do you agree that you just shouldn't use them?"

"I didn't…"

"No, you did. Ruby suggested you might be able to do good with them, you got tempted and started poking at them, and they come erupting out like… like… puss or something."

Sam ducked his head. "That's not exactly…"

"It's close enough." Dean shook his head. "I'm not saying that it doesn't sound great, being able to exorcise demons, but we got a way to do that."

"But you need a ritual."

"Are you telling me you don't have it memorized? I might not have it down, but I've been practicing. Because I don't want to go around killing people. Rachel's right about that."

"But if I could do it quicker…"

"Not if it puts you at risk."

"He's right, Sam," Nathan said. "It's too dangerous. You've got to give up the idea of using your powers."

Sam sighed and rested his head against his hand. "Yeah, okay. I'll leave it alone."

"You swear?"

"Yes, Dean, I swear. Jesus."

"Good." He stood and chugged the rest of his coffee. "You'd better clear out. I have a feeling Rachel's not going to want to see you too much today."

"I thought it would be better if I went alone."

"So you could kill the demon. Which you knew she didn't want to do."

"It wasn't just that," Sam protested.

"Whatever. Now she's all upset, and she's still going to go summon the demon, only now she's going to do it alone. Unless Nathan goes with her."

Nathan nodded. "I can go. Don't know what good I'll be, but I'll go with her."

"We'll figure it all out later. I wish she wasn't so paranoid about me being there."

"It's really not a good idea," Sam said.

"It's not like the demon can't get to me even if I'm a hundred miles away." He threw up his hands, tired of the argument. "I'm going upstairs. Get out, get your head on straight. Just… please don't be here today."

He turned and left the room, feeling like a crappy brother. Because, hell, it was Sam's house, too. And it was all kinds of fucked up to kick him out of his own house.

Except what Sam had done was fucked up, too. They'd had a plan. It wasn't a great one, but it'd been a plan. And he'd just rushed ahead with his own, convinced he was right. Not thinking of the consequences.

Dean really hoped that Sam laying off his powers helped with his impulsiveness. Because Dean really hated where it was heading and wanted his brother sane again.

Of course, a small part of him said, Sam wouldn't be taking these risks if Dean hadn't been a dumbass and sold his soul.

Rachel was in the bedroom. Ashley was quiet, intently eating. Rachel looked exhausted, head resting against the headboard, eyes half-lidded. Her lashes were still wet and spiky, meaning she'd only just stopped crying. She seemed calm now, though.

"You okay?"

"Gave myself a headache." She smiled wanly. "I don't think I've ever been so angry with Sam."

He sat on the bed and caressed her leg. "I told you he's infuriating, but you didn't believe me. Said the only reason I thought that was because he was my brother. Hate to say I told you so, but…"

"Yeah, yeah." She glanced down at Ashley, who was sleepily sucking at her breast. "What did he say about his powers?"

"He said Ruby told him he could exorcise demons with them, and he'd been poking at them."

Rachel sighed. "That's… that's going to be a powerful temptation if it's true. Jesus Christ." She wrinkled her nose. "He tell you how he got them?"

"He tell you?"

"A few weeks ago it came out. But I figured it was his trauma to tell."

"Yeah. But we all agree now that the powers are a bad idea, right? Because you told him to use them…"

"That was forever ago. Before we knew Azazel was looking for an army general."

"But the point is, I always said that it was a bad idea to play around with them." Dean squeezed her knee gently. "I get he can't control the dreams, but the rest of it, he's got to stop trying. Stop poking, stop fiddling, stop trying. And I'm not sure it's a good idea to let Ruby keep hanging around."

"Even if she can help save you?"

He just gave her a long look that expressed everything he'd ever thought about demons.

She nodded. "Yeah." She slid her legs out from under him and took Ashley, who was now sleeping, to her bassinet. "Does Sam agree that he shouldn't use his powers?"

"That's what he says. I'm trying to believe him." He settled down against the pillows and opened his arms for her. "I wish there was some way to get rid of them. Remove the temptation completely."

Rachel crawled into Dean's arms and rested her head on his chest. "I know. I'll look into it, but I doubt there's anything we can do about it. Maybe Nathan can help him, I don't know, find some kind of meditation or affirmation to say any time he's tempted. Or feels his powers bubbling to the surface or something."

"Oh, yeah, that sounds helpful."

"For all the thousands of years of dark magic, there's an equally long history of light magic. Nathan's studied it, and maybe it can help."

Magic was useful on occasion, but Dean didn't trust it. And he didn't trust that some silly chant could stop something like demon-blood powers. But, on the other hand, meditation and chanting did sound like something Sam might be into. It didn't have to actual help; Sam just had to think it did.

He ran his hand through her hair, breaking the tangles. "You sure you're going to be safe tonight? I don't want the demon hurting you because of what Sam did."

"I'll be fine. It's a modification of the blessed circle I used to trap Andrew Winston when he was out of the photograph. According to the lore I found, it will keep a demon trapped."

"Your lore better be right."

"It is."

He scratched his fingers over her back and said, "Are you sure I can't go with you? I'd feel better if I was nearby."

Rachel sighed. "The demon can't get into the house."

"Hellhounds might be able to. That's what they'll send after me. The demon will stand there, laughing in your face while I'm a hundred miles away, being torn apart. I'd be better if I was with you."

"So I can see it?" She lifted her head. "Dean, I know that the demon can get you pretty much anywhere. I get that. But it would be distracting having you there. The demon would spend more time taunting you for letting me do all the talking than actually talking to me."

"I'll stay in the car."

She laughed and shook her head. "I can see it now. The demon taunts you, you get angry, there's shouting and threatening, and I never get any information. So, no." She reached over and stroked her fingers over his temple. "No, you aren't coming. I'll go alone."

"No." He took her hand and kissed it. "Nathan will go with you." He turned her hand over and kissed her wrist and began placing a trail of kisses to her elbow.

Her breath hitched. "Yeah, that's… that's fine." She shifted, draping her body over Dean's. Caught him by the chin and kissed him.

Dean groaned deep in his throat, arms coming around her. "Baby's sleeping," he whispered, kissing over her jawline.

"Mmm, she is." Rachel ground down on him, then sat up, tugging her shirt over her head. "Think you can be quiet?"

He grinned, pulling off his shirt as well. "For you, I can be anything."

She snorted then bit back a yelp as Dean grabbed her flipped her onto the bed. "Oh, shoot," she giggled, covering her mouth. "Did I wake her?"

Dean glanced at the baby and shook his head. "Don't worry." Dean kissed her, running his hands through her hair. His tongue brushed against hers, mouths working together, sending shivers down his spine. "She's still asleep. And I'll make sure to keep your mouth occupied."

"Dirty."

He waggled his eyebrows and nipped at her chin. "That, my dear, is the idea."


	12. Chapter 12

"Rachel Adams Winchester," the demon purred. "I've been waiting for your call. I expected it weeks ago."

Rachel swallowed hard, trying to work moisture back into her mouth. Her skin was cold and clammy all over. Paradoxically, little pinpricks of heat crawled over her body, and she sweat and shivered all at once.

The demon was beautiful. She'd known it would be because they always seemed to be in the lore (not to mention Dean's reports), but she wasn't prepared for this. She'd been ready for a woman, for one thing, and this tall, dark-haired man with ice blue eyes, full lips, and sharp cheekbones had taken her by surprise.

"Breathe," she reminded herself and inhaled hard.

The demon smirked like he knew her reaction to him. Hell, he'd probably been aiming for it.

"Yeah, well," she said, voice breathy. "I ran into some problems."

"The whole state being sealed off is less a problem and more a travesty. I just wonder who gave a trickster that kind of power."

She wisely did not point out that the trickster probably wasn't one. If demons were taken by the façade, Rachel wasn't going to share her hypothesis with the crowd. Besides, maybe he was just a trickster. Maybe, somehow, he was just really powerful.

"And then there's Sam," the demon said. "Killing my sister like that was bad form. I wouldn't be here, quite honestly, if I had a choice."

"Which is why I summoned you. To take away that choice." She rubbed her palms together. "I have some questions for you."

"And I should answer them why?"

"Answer them, and you go free. Don't, I exorcise you and move on to the next one."

He raised on perfect eyebrow. "You know exorcising doesn't kill us."

"I've heard firsthand how bad hell is, even for a demon. Eventually, I'll find one that doesn't want to go back."

The demon sighed and rolled his eyes. "I've got to admit, this whole trap a demon and bore it with questions instead of threats has me intrigued. My night going nowhere anyway. Ask away. If I'm not completely bored, maybe I'll answer."

Rachel swallowed and pulled out her phone. "Mind if I record this?"

He laughed his whole face lighting up and taking her breath away. It was hard to remember this was a demon. He was so… real. Warm and human and gorgeous, with the moonlight glinting off his dark hair.

"Has a contract ever been broken before?" she asked.

"Didn't your husband help someone break a contract?"

"Through threats, yes. But I don't think that's going to work in this situation."

He shook his head. "None of us can break the deal. The only person who can is the contract holder."

"Who holds the contract?"

The demon smiled.

She swallowed. "What about loopholes?"

"Loopholes?"

"Yeah, like. Like Dean couldn't have made a deal for his soul because his soul didn't belong to him at the time. It belonged to me"

He broke out into laughter again. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a phone and said, "I am so glad I'm recording this conversation. Everyone back home's going to love this."

Cheeks hot with humiliation, she said, "It was just a theory."

"I get it, sweetheart. You want to believe you and Dean are soulmates, a love for all the ages, the great love story of our time. But that's not the way things work. Being in love doesn't mean you own someone's soul, it just means they make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Beside. Even if that was the way things worked, you invalidated your hold on Dean's soul, didn't you?"

"What?"

"You cheated on Dean."

The blood drained from her face. Her head spun. "I was coerced."

He shook his head. "You made a choice. What's more, you made the first move. I mean, let's say John had made the first move. He'd stood there, gazing into your eyes, and then grabbed you and kissed you. Well, that would have activated Azazel's lust spell, and you'd have been innocent. A victim in his game and of John's lust because, let's face it, it wasn't you because you happened to be there. John wanted you. He'd been lusting after you the moment he set eyes on you. But he had restraint." The demon smiled. "Instead, you were the one who went to him. You reached for him, you kissed him. You broke the trust between you and Dean."

Her head hurt. It was going to explode and rip apart. There was a weight in her chest making it impossible to breath and no matter how hard she tried to suppress them, tears blurred her vision.

She turned her new ring so the jewel faced her palm. Squeezed her fist shut and breathed. The bastard was looking for tears. For protestations of innocence. He was looking for her to break down and lose it.

She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Rachel took another deep breath and relaxed her hands. When she was sure she was under control, she said, "What can we trade for Dean's soul?" Her voice only wobbled a little.

"Nothing. He is what was wanted. What is needed."

"Needed. For what?"

The smile that was flashed was full of teeth "His suffering. After everything he's done to us, it's time for reparations."

"I don't believe you."

"Maybe I'm lying." He opened his arms around him. "Maybe I'm not. But believe me when I say there is nothing that can be offered in Dean Winchester's place."

Rachel nodded. "How many crossroads demons are there?"

"As many as there needs to be."

"And one leader?"

He hesitated. "One… leader and some management."

"So, who has Dean's contract?"

"The leader."

"Does he hold all the contracts?"

Again, a slight hesitation. The demon licked his lips. "She holds most of them," he finally said. "The important ones. Like Dean's."

She tried not to get excited at the pronoun change. She suspected she was being toyed with. "What's her name?"

"I can't tell you."

"Do you know it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I do. And you do, too."

"How would I know it?"

"Because you know lore that stretches back to the Beginning. You've come across it in your studies. It's probably in your little database. It's just that nothing has ever connected her to the crossroads."

She tilted her head. "Why are you telling me, then?"

He shrugged. "For fun. For chaos." He raised an eyebrow, expression turning calculated. "Because maybe I want someone else in charge, someone who will treat me better." Then he smiled, the calculated expression melting away. "I don't know. Could be lots of things." He yawned suddenly, patting his hand over his mouth in an exaggerated manner. "I'm quite bored now."

"I have another question."

He waved an idle hand, but his face was one of inflated boredom. Rachel knew that if he hadn't been trapped in a blessed circle, he'd be gone by now.

"John told me that when he was in hell, the demons torturing him would offer to stop if he took their knife. He said they asked over and over again. Why?"

"Because it's fun," the demon answered, shrugging. "Humans come down. They get strapped on a rack. And we play until they break. Until they lose what's left of their moral fiber or whatever and take the step."

"What step?"

He blinked at her, looking almost guileless except for the smirk threatening to cross his face. "The step to their transformation into demons."

Her stomach dropped as if she'd gone down a steep hill. "Demons. Demons were human?"

"You didn't know?"

She shook her head. "How… how does a human become a demon?"

He shrugged. "Time and pressure. Rather like a diamond. Some humans break immediately. Some take longer. But, sooner or later, all crack. And, eventually, they lose their humanity and become us." He smiled. "Why do you think we love possessing you so much? We get to live again, free and unburdened from your pesky little morals."

"That's what you're going to do to Dean? You're going to turn him into a demon."

The demon grinned. "We've got a pool going. I think he'll crack in ten years. I'd have given him twenty, but I think leaving that precious baby behind will wear him down faster."

Rachel shook her head. "No. Dean's like his father. He'll hold on for longer."

Anger on his face, the demon moved toward her. He stopped abruptly, hiding the barrier. Teeth bared, he growled, "John was a mistake. He was Azazel trying to force John into a role Dean was born to play. John had too much incentive to hold on. Dean?" His smile was sharp and cruel. "He's got so much he's going to lose. You can tell him that, sweetheart, and it won't make a difference."

Her heart pounded and her palms were slick. She knew he was right. Knew that Dean had everything to lose. If she didn't stop it, he was going to lose everything she'd ever given him, everything he'd tried to avoid from the beginning.

She'd always been so convinced she brought joy into his life. Little had she known that joy would turn into a knife.

"What was Azazel trying to start?" she asked, voice unsteady. She swallowed and tried to force away her guilt. "I keep hearing that over and over again, but I don't get it."

"You're not hearing it from me. We're done here. Let me go."

She shook her head. "Sorry, but no." For a moment—just a wild one—she wished she had the Colt there. Killing the demon wouldn't fix things, but it would make her feel better.

"Let me go, Rachel."

"No." She pulled out John's journal and opened it to the exorcism ritual. In fact, she had it memorized, but she wasn't leaving anything to chance.

The demon swore at her. The ground shook, but she'd doused everywhere with holy water before. He writhed and screamed and fell to his knees but, finally, he vomited up a cloud of black smoke that was sucked down through the ground.

"What?" The man on the ground looked up. His beautiful face was lost and confused and he trembled with cold and the aftershocks of the exorcism. "Is it gone?"

Rachel nodded and approached him. "Yeah. It's back in hell now. Are you okay?" The last thing she wanted was him to keel over dead. He looked okay, but you never knew how badly the demons treated their chosen body.

He pushed himself up, stumbling as he stood. "I think so." His eyes went bright with tears. "It's been two years. I was walking to my car on campus and it just…" He shuddered. "It's like being buried under an oil spill. Dark and smothering and…" He broke off. Licked his lips. "Did it say it used to be human?"

"Yes, he did. I'd heard that before, but I'd hoped…" She shook her head, not wanting to think of her husband as a demon. "Anyway, we should get you home. Where are you from?"

"Kansas. Where am I now?"

"Idaho." She rubbed her eyes wearily. "I'll take you home with me right now. We'll figure out what to do in the morning."

He nodded and stepped out of the circle. "Thank you. For rescuing me."

She smiled, glad something good could come out of this mess of a night. "You're welcome."


	13. Chapter 13

"I don't see a way around it," Rachel said, rubbing her forehead. "I'm sorry, we just don't have the resources here."

"You have a million a books here. Bobby has a million more. And you're telling me you don't have the resources?" protested Dean. He tightened his arms around Ashley, holding her closer to his body, an almost unconscious reaction to what Rachel was trying to tell him.

She closed her eyes. "I know it seems like I have a huge library, but I really don't. It's just a starter set. And Bobby doesn't have enough on demons."

"Why…"

"Because until the devil's gate opened, demon possession was rare, Dean," Bobby said. He sat across from Dean at the kitchen table, running his thumb over a grain of wood repetitively. "My wife was an exception, not the rule. It wasn't like it is now. So, I got books on things that I needed as a hunter. That other hunters needed. I got a lot of books on a lot of subjects, but I don't got enough on what you need. I'm sorry, I just don't."

Dean shook his head. "But Connecticut?"

"My grandparents' house," Rachel said. She shrugged. "Now, Grandpa had an extensive library. There are generations' worth of books. I need to go there and see. Maybe I can find the name of the demon who holds your contract."

He rested his head on top of Ashley's. Inhaled deeply, smelling the baby powder scent of her. Feeling the warmth that radiated her. "You said you couldn't do that drive again."

"I can't."

He looked up. He'd figured that'd be her answer, but he'd somehow been hoping that she'd change her mind.

Rachel shrugged and smiled sadly. "Nathan and I are going to fly out there. You and Sam can follow. You'll only be away from her a few days."

He shifted Ashley so she was facing him and hugged her to his chest. Her open, wet mouth latched on to his shirt and she breathed heavily as she swung her arms.

God, he loved her so much it hurt sometimes. How else could he stand the feel of sticky, wet drool on his neck and not feel the need to remove the source? How else could he change endless poopy diapers and suffer through sleepless nights and not mind that his favorite shirt had spit-up on it? It was love, and every minute he had to spend apart from her tore him to bits. And now Rachel was asking for days. "This is bullshit."

"I know." She raised her eyebrows hopefully. "Well. Unless you fly out with me. Sam and Nathan can follow us, and we can go together."

He groaned at the thought of getting on a plane again. He'd forced himself to do it last year, but it had taken a lot of drugs. And even then, it'd been bad. He'd had nightmares on the plane, but hadn't been able to wake up from them because of the drugs. And, on top of everything, he'd only stumbled out under the support of Rachel's mom. He didn't think he could do it again. "No," he finally said. "I'll just drive out. We'll need a car anyway."

Rachel smiled wryly. "We can always rent a car."

He shot her a look. "It's not the same. Driving a piece of crap sedan? No, thank you." He pulled Ashley away from his neck and held her above his head.

Her face lit up when she saw Dean, and she smiled.

Dean smiled back. "Don't forget me, you hear? I'll only be a few days behind you. It won't be long, I promise. Don't go changing on me or growing up too much or anything. You stay your adorable self." He lowered her and kissed her stomach.

Rachel stood and came over to him. Slid her arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. "Dean, she's not going to forget you. And I'll make sure she doesn't grow at all while the two of you are apart, okay? You'll find her exactly the same."

"Liar." He kissed her and then sighed. "Okay. Back to Connecticut."

* * *

The death of Rachel's parents and grandparents had left both Rachel and Nathan with a sizable inheritance. Their parents fortune had been split down the middle between the two of them, leaving them with more money they could ever hope to need in their lives. The property was also shared jointly between them, although neither knew what to do with it. The house was in ruins, although the grounds were fine. They could always rebuild, but neither one was very enthusiastic about it. A house needed someone to live in it, and, right now, they both lived in South Dakota. And anyway, the land had too many memories; they weren't quite ready to face those memories yet.

Their grandparents had lived in a grand mansion that sat on five acres of land. The house was over 16,000 square feet and boasted of two family rooms, a gym, a library, several bedrooms, and a master suite with two bathrooms. It was grand and imposing, and had been the seat of the Carmichael family for over a hundred years.

Thankfully, neither Rachel nor Nathan had inherited the house on their grandparents' death. It had gone to their Aunt Nina. Until the untimely death of her parents, she'd been living in a penthouse in New York and, as her life was there, was reluctant to leave it.

"Besides," she said to Rachel the last time they'd talked, "it's just too big for one person. It'd be different if you and your family were there, too. I wouldn't feel as much like a ghost, haunting the halls." Then she'd paused before saying, "But, really, what's in Sioux Falls anyway?"

Rachel found it hard to explain the appeal. She'd grown up in a house like her grandparents, surrounded by the trappings of wealth. Her parents had done what they'd could to keep her and Nathan grounded, but she hadn't done laundry for herself until she'd moved into the dorms in college. She'd grown up never having to think about where her next meal was coming or having to decide between clothes and food. Of course, between her inheritance and her trust fund, she still didn't have to.

But she didn't need a huge house with a sauna and billiards table. The cozy home that she'd built for her family was enough.

Besides, Dean would never really be comfortable in her grandparents' mansion. He might enjoy the amenities on a visit, but he'd never really feel at home. Not like he did in Sioux Falls, down the street from Bobby.

And, now, Rachel wouldn't either.

The house was mostly closed up when she and Nathan got there. The house looked ghostly, with everything covered in white sheets. The main rooms downstairs were open, plus a few bedrooms and, of course, the library. Everything had been meticulously maintained by a housekeeping staff that came through once a week. Heck, it was probably cleaner than her own home was, even with no one living there.

The library was the crown jewel of the Carmichael home. It boasted over a thousand texts, spanned three rooms, two stories in each room. The family had employed a librarian to manage the whole things in years past. The last librarian hadn't been replaced after retiring, and Rachel was sorely regretting that now. It would help to have someone familiar with the contents direct her search.

"Start with what you know," she said to herself. She was in the library alone while Nathan watched Ashley in the family room. The baby monitor was on the desk next to her, just in case Not that she didn't trust Nathan. He was getting more confident without his sight. More independent.

Besides. Ginger was with them. She wouldn't let anything happen.

She stared at the card catalogue in front of her with a hint of resignation. The library had never modernized. Her grandfather had meant to for years. It seemed every few months he'd bring it up, how he needed to get started on it. Needed to find a new librarian who'd be interested in the project. When Rachel had started writing her own database, he'd made some vague mutterings about having her come and do the library. But, of course, she'd been too busy. She'd had college and her own things to worry about, and, so, it never got done.

There was nothing to do about it now. The card catalogue was what she had to work with, so that's what she'd use.

She gathered her thoughts and began paging slowly through the cards. She was looking for a demon. A female demon. An old female demon that showed up in lore, but not as a crossroads demon. But how to start looking for that?

Feeling the same sense of despair that always overtook her at the start of an impossible research project, she began looking for books on demons that would date back to the Beginning. There were quite a few. Gathering the books, she sat down at a desk and started poring through.

Her education on demons had clearly been lacking. There was speculation right in the lore about demons being human that had broken in Hell. How she'd never known that was baffling. It made sense. Although, Azazel hadn't been human. He'd been a fallen angel, and he was Rachel's main experience with demons before now.

She took notes as she read, jotting down the names of any demon she could find. The problem with names, though, was demons didn't always use their own. Meg had been the name of the woman being possessed. Rachel had no idea of Ruby was using her own name or was following Meg's example. How could Rachel be sure Lilith or Dantalion were their actual names?

"Hey."

Rachel started and looked up.

Nathan was standing next to her, Ashley in his arms, Ginger next to him.

"Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "You said to get you in two hours so you could feed Ashley."

"Wow." She stretched, feeling her bones creak and crack. "Time flies. Thanks." She stood, the past two hours of sitting catching up with her suddenly, and took Ashley. "Let's go back to the family room. God, I'm starving."

"How's the research going?" Nathan asked as they walked down their hall. Their footsteps seemed to echo on the hardwood floor.

"I'm not sure. I'm finding names, but I don't know. There aren't very many female demons, at least not named ones." She turned into the family room.

"Shouldn't that make it easier?"

She shrugged and sat on the couch. "Maybe. Like, one name that keeps reoccurring is Lilith. But I've never heard her in conjunction with crossroads demons."

"Well, he said you wouldn't."

"Yeah, you're right. Still." Carefully, she undid her shirt and opened her bra, holding Ashley to her breast. "And then there's things like… like a few books refer to Gorgons as demons. Does that refer to a class of demons or a type or what? Am I looking for Medusa?"

"I think we can rule her out," Nathan said. "If the snakes for hair thing is true, then it'd be pretty hard for her to go around making deals if she's turning people into stone."

"True." She sighed. "And, of course, there's the problem of gender in demons in general. Like, Meg. She first appeared to us in a female vessel, but that doesn't mean she's female. She possessed Sam."

Nathan nodded and chewed on his lower lip. "Well. If demons were humans, then maybe their gender was whatever they were when they were humans. Like, maybe Meg was a woman when she was human."

"But how would we know?"

He sighed and shrugged. "We could ask Ruby."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Ask a demon and expect to get a straight answer?"

"You asked a crossroads demon."

Rachel wrinkled her nose. "Okay, that's true. But that was different. I had it under duress. It thought I was going to let it go if it was truthful."

"Doesn't mean it was truthful. You might be on a wild goose chase looking for a female demon that's been mentioned in lore before." He raised his eyebrows above his sunglasses.

He was getting so good at working his facial expressions around his eyes. The muscles in his face had healed and were moving easily now. But he was still convinced that his eyes looked fake and refused to take off the sunglasses, even around her. It made her sad; she wanted her brother to be comfortable around her.

She switched Ashley to her other breast. "I should just go back to looking for information on crossroads demons and their contracts, huh?"

"I don't know what the answer is, Rach. I think… I think this might be a puzzle we can't solve."

"God, don't say that. It's Dean's life if we don't."

"I know. But I think it would be better for you if you faced…"

"Stop," she said harshly.

He subsided, falling back against his chair. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just worried about you and Sam. None of us want Dean to die, but I'm afraid of what's going to happen to the two of you if he does."

Rachel rested her chin on top of Ashley's head. "Me too," she said softly.

They sat in silence after that. The only noise were Ginger's occasional huffs and the sound of Ashley eating.

She hated to think about what might happen. What would happen if all their searching turned up nothing. The whole mess was made to be impossible. Dean had been maneuvered into this deal for God knew what reason. If they didn't find out who held his contract, if they weren't able to break the deal, Dean was going to hell in a few months. She was going to lose her husband and the love of her life.

How did someone deal with that?

Ashley fell asleep after eating. Rachel went back to her research. All in all, it was a quiet afternoon.

Dinner wasn't much better. She and Nathan were both depressed, and Ashley, seeming to pick up on their mood, was subdued as well. They talked a little about the research, but she hadn't found much. All in all, it was a miserable dinner, and the misery followed them into the evening.

After dinner, they went to the family room. Rachel put Ashley into her playpen and then put on a movie. As they watched, she idly flipped through the local paper that had been delivered that morning.

"Huh," she said suddenly, zeroing in on an article.

"What?" Nathan asked.

"Remember Shelia Case?"

"Uh… maybe. Sound familiar."

"She was a few years ahead of us in school. I had gym with her one year, and we belonged to a few of the same clubs. She died."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah, but she died by drowning in her shower."

Nathan turned from the TV and frowned at Rachel. "Drowned in her shower? How do you do that?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe it's one of our cases. Well. Dean and Sam's type of case, I mean." She shrugged again, lifting her eyebrows. "It'd give them something to do while they're here, at any rate. Something besides haunting this house."

"When do they get here?"

"Dean said they should be here tomorrow. I'll send them Mrs. Case's way."

"Wait." Nathan sat up. "Gertrude Case, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

Nathan groaned and screwed up his face. "You probably don't remember, but about three years ago, Grandpa and Grandma had a party. I brought they guy I was seeing, Alex Collins. He was…. he was fucking gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes. Muscular. Really hot. And Gert Case accidentally," he said, putting scare quotes around the word, "grabbed his butt."

"How do you accidentally grab someone's butt? I mean… she actually said that?"

Nathan threw his hand up in the air. "She said she didn't see him and just bumped into him and she was so sorry. Anyway. It was embarrassing." He licked his lips. "Sam's pretty hot."

"Oh, come on. She is not going to grope Sam. She was probably drunk. Besides. She just lost her niece, whom she raised practically. She's not going to do anything."

"Yeah, we'll see."

* * *

"Jesus Christ," Dean muttered as he cut the engine.

"Again. You knew she was rich," Sam said.

He knew she was rich. He'd seen her parents' house. Hell, he'd lived there for a while. But her grandparents' house…

Maybe it was because it was night. Everything looked bigger at night. But having driven a half mile past the gate, past what looked like a private putting range, a gazebo, and stables, it was a little intimidating. He'd grown up in a car. And Rachel could tell him as much as she wanted that he was rich now too, but, fact was, he wasn't. He was Dean Winchester from Anywhere, USA. Literally most of the time. He lived off hustled pool money and credit card scams. He didn't think he'd ever be used to having unlimited funds at his disposal.

Of course, he thought dourly as he got out of the car and grabbed his duffel, it wasn't like he'd have time to get used to it.

He let them into the silent house and looked around. The entryway was all hardwood and sculptures and high ceilings. There was five different exits, not counting the staircase.

"I guess the bedrooms are upstairs." He eyed the grand staircase warily. "How many rooms do you think this place has?"

"Bedrooms or just in general?" Even Sam sounded overawed, his voice echoing in the vastness of the entryway.

Nathan appeared on the first landing. "That you two, or someone broken in to murder us in our beds?" he asked sleepily, running his fingers over Ginger's head.

"It's us," Sam replied.

He smiled, looking young, vulnerable and strange without his sunglasses. Dean had gotten used to seeing them on him all the time; he'd forgotten how young Nathan looked without him.

Thinking about how young Nathan was inevitably led to him thinking about how young Rachel was. Too young to be saddled with a kid and a dying husband. Practically too young to be married. God, how had he'd let all this happen?

Jesus, he was morose tonight. Must be tired from driving for three days straight.

"I'll show you where Rachel is," Nathan said. He was still waiting expectantly.

Sam took the stairs two at a time and got there before Dean. "Hey," he said, voice soft and fond sounding. He cupped the back of Nathan's head, leaned down, and kissed him. "You okay?"

"I'm good. You?"

"I'm good." They kissed again.

"You two make me sick," Dean said.

"Something something you and Rachel blah blah blah," Nathan said. He yawned. "Okay, Rachel is down the hall, third door on the right. It's the master suite. Sam, you and I are that way." He pointed down the hall the other way and then grabbed Sam's hand. "Night Dean. Don't wake the baby."

"Too late, you're already up."

"Clever."

Dean rolled his eyes, shouldered his duffel, and went to the master suite.

His stomach fell when he went in. It was huge. It was easily the size of the entire second story of their house. There was a sitting area that with a sofa and love seat, a television, a fireplace, and a mini library. The bed was in a separate section near the back, and the bed was the biggest Dean had ever seen. Rachel was swallowed by the mattress, a small speck surrounded by fluffy pillows and a luxurious comforter.

Ashley was sleeping soundly in the bassinet next to the bed. She was getting old enough for a crib, but that was back home. Maybe if they stayed here long enough they'd buy another one, but, for right now, she was still in her bassinet.

Dean had done a little reading about people who let their babies sleep with them in the bed. The idea was appealing, except for the terrible fear he'd roll over and crush Ashley. He liked the idea of having her close. Of lying there, listening to her breath. To be able to reach over and put his hand on her stomach, feeling her move and her warmth.

He was getting sappy in his old age. Or whatever it was when you were only months away from death. Beside, as nice as the idea sounded, there were too many things that could go wrong. And, besides that, he kind of liked having Ashley's mom in bed without any distractions.

He quickly stripped down to his shirt and boxers.

"Dean?" Rachel rolled over and opened her eyes as he climbed into bed. When she saw him, she smiled. "Hey."

"Hey." He slid his arm beneath her shoulders and pulled her into a deep, long kiss. The tight ball inside his stomach loosened as he felt her skin and hair against his body. This was home, this was what he needed. Not a fancy house or piles of money, just this woman and their little girl.

"How was the drive?"

"Sucked." He settled against the pillows and pulled her against him. "I didn't use to mind the road. I like driving and the endless hours. But now that I'm not just… me anymore, it's torture. All I want is to be with Ashley instead of cruising along listening to Metallica."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't do it again." She sighed and rested her head on his chest. "If Ashley and I were with you, I'm sure you'd still like it. Maybe when she's older…"

"Don't."

She clenched her hand on his stomach and was silent.

He let the silence hold a moment before putting his hand over hers and squeezing. "Sorry."

"No. No, it's okay."

There was an awkward pause before he asked, "You find anything?"

Rachel sighed. "Not really. I'm finding more about demons, but I don't know if it's helpful. I mean, it's interesting as general knowledge, but I don't think it'll help you." She sighed again. "I've been looking at demons, looking at the ones from back to the Beginning. As far back at the lore goes, I've been looking. I think I'm going to stop and just research crossroads demons for a while."

So, basically, it was another dead end, but he wasn't going to say it. Research was important, and his father had always stressed how it was important to know everything about what you were hunting. But Dean didn't think it was going to help him. This was just something to make Rachel feel useful. To feel like she was doing something that mattered.

To take everyone's minds off the inevitable.

"Well, whatever you think is best. I guess Sam and I…"

"Oh, I found a case for the two of you."

"What?"

She sat up, hair falling over her shoulder. The window behind them was open, and moonlight streamed in through it, lighting her face. "A school friend of mine died. She drowned in her shower."

"How do you drown in your shower?"

"I know, right? That's why I think it might be your kind of case. I was thinking maybe the two of you could drop in on her aunt tomorrow and get more information."

"Her aunt?"

"Her parents are dead. She lived with her aunt in high school. If anyone knows anything, it'd be her Aunt Gertrude."

He stroked up Rachel's back and nodded. "Okay. Drowning in the shower. We'll check it out tomorrow."

"With any luck, it will be an easy case. Just something simple to keep you busy."

Dean nodded. Something simple. That would be nice.


	14. Chapter 14

"Break time," Nathan said, coming into the library the next afternoon. "Here. I figured you'd need coffee."

Rachel sat back from the book she was reading and took the coffee. "Got any pain killers? My head is starting to hurt." She rubbed her eyes. "My Latin is rusty."

"I can go get something."

She shook her head. "Naw, it's fine. I'll take something later." She took a long drink of her coffee. "Did you know Mercury was a crossroads god? I wonder if we could summon him and ask him some questions."

"You want to summon a pagan god?" He sounded dubious.

"Hey, the pagan god we dealt with wasn't so bad."

Nathan shook his head and sat across from her. "It's too risky. You never know what you're going to get with a pagan god. You can get the trickster, who helped you because you were weak and powerless…"

"Hey!"

"Or you'll get a monster who only cares how humans taste. Besides. Who's to say that your trickster isn't Mercury, anyway?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Huh."

"I mean, he did seal off the crossroads like he owned them."

"I thought you agreed with me that he'd not just a pagan god. He's more powerful."

Nathan shrugged. "I'm a blind empath without a master's degree," he said. "What do I know?"

"You can go back to school," Rachel said as her phone started ringing. "Nothing is stopping you now."

"Can't go back while Dean's soul is hanging in the balance. Doesn't seem right."

"Guess not. Hello?"

"Fucking god damn bitch had my car towed!"

She blinked. "Gertrude Case had your car towed?"

"No, Bela had my car towed."

"Bela? What's Bela doing here?"

"Selling charms and good feeling to old women who've lost their nieces. She was working Gertrude over, and apparently we got in the way, so she towed my car!"

"Calm down," Rachel said. "We'll get the car back. Where are you? I'll come get you."

"We're down at the harbor. Come fast. I want my car back."

"I'll come as fast as I can with a baby. And, don't forget, don't have my car, I have my grandfather's car. So don't bitch at me when I pull up."

"My lips are sealed. Just get here."

"Love you."

"Me too." He hung up.

"So. Bela's in town?" Nathan said.

"In town and having cars towed. While conning rich old ladies out of their wealth." She shook her head. "I'd really like to meet this woman and give her a piece of my mind."

* * *

Two days later and two more dead bodies. Brothers this time, and Dean had watched the second one drown in his car. His car, on dry land. It'd been horrifying seeing a man sitting there, spewing water like a demented fountain and being completely helpless to stop it.

He shuddered and turned his attention back to Ashley.

She was glaring at him, bottom lip pushed out, clearly displeased she'd lost his attention.

"Sorry, baby girl," he said. He made a silly face at her.

She immediately smiled back, waving her arms around and kicking.

"That's my girl," he said. He leaned down at blew against her round stomach, listening to her shriek with laughter.

The doorbell rang.

"Sam?"

"I'm busy," he said, nose buried in a book.

"And I'm not?"

Sam sighed and turned the page.

Rolling his eyes, Dean scooped Ashley into his arms. Sam and Nathan were both sitting at the table by the window, reading. Well, Sam was reading; Nathan was on the computer, ear buds in. Both were researching the case. Their feet were tangled together beneath the table, and, God, they made Dean want to be sick. It seemed like they got a little more affectionate every day, and it wasn't like it bugged Dean because Nathan was a guy. That wasn't it. It was just weird seeing Sam being lovey-dovey with anyone. They'd never had girlfriends growing up, and it wasn't like he'd seen Sam and Jess together. Seeing him with anyone was weird.

The doorbell rang again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said, adjusting Ashley. He opened the door.

Bela stood on the doorstep, looking at the house with a disbelieving look. "My, my. Aren't you the rags to riches story?" She looked appreciatively at the entry hall and ran a covetous hand over the door frame. "Tell me, how does it feel living in a place like this coming from the life you did?"

"What are you doing here, Bela?" he asked harshly, trying to disguise his discomfort. Her questions hit a little bit too close to home. Only way he was getting through this was to completely ignore the luxury around him.

Her face brightened. "Oh, I hit a nerve. Feel a bit unworthy are we? I should imagine you do. You can't believe you deserve to live in a place like this."

"What…"

"Maybe you should keep your mouth shut about things you know nothing about," Rachel's voice floated from behind Dean, sounding tense and displeased.

Dean turned to see Rachel coming down the stairs. Her jaw was clenched and there was a furrow between her eyes.

Bela smiled in that insincere way she had. "You must be Rachel. It's good to finally meet you face to face."

She raised her eyebrow as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "If you say so." Expression growing darker, she came to the door and crossed her arms over her chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Wasn't planning on it." But she stepped back and gestured with her hand.

"Thank you." She stepped in and came a little too close to Dean and Ashley for comfort. "What a lovely baby." She sniffed. "Oh. I think she needs a change."

"What do you want, Bela?" Dean snapped. She was right, Ashley did need to be changed. But he wasn't going to turn his back on this viper for an instant.

"You seem tense. I take it last night didn't go so well with Peter?"

Dean clenched his jaw, seeing the man again, choking and drowning on dry land while a malevolent spirit watched.

"I hate to say I told you so…"

"Then don't."

"What's going on?" Sam asked, coming into the hall.

Bela smiled. "Sam, hello. And you must be Nathan. Nice sunglasses."

A muscle in Nathan's jaw twitched, but otherwise his face was a mask. "Bela."

There was a long and awkward pause before Bela finally said, "Why don't we go somewhere more comfortable, and I can tell you why I came?"

Dean, Rachel, and Sam exchanged glances and then shrugged. "Fine. Through here," Rachel said. She led the way to the family room.

"I'll take Ashley," Nathan said.

"Thanks." Dean handed her over, and Nathan went to the area of the room they'd set up for taking care of Ashley.

The rest of them sat on the couches.

"I found out the name of the ship our victims are seeing before their deaths," Bela said, opening her portfolio. "It's the Espírito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel, quite a colorful history. In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37."

"That would explain why it shows up every 37 years," Sam said.

"Aren't you a sharp tack?" Bela said, then she shot a look at Rachel and cleared her throat. "Anyway, I have a photo of him… here."

Dean took it and grimaced. "We saw him last night," he said handing the photo to Sam.

"You saw him?" Bela said, surprised.

"Yeah, but he was missing a hand."

Bela nodded. "The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory."

"What's a hand of glory? Beside what I got at the end of my last Thai massage." Dean laughed at his joke.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "It's a pretty serious occult object. Various powers are attributed to it. You put a candle in it, light it, and everyone in the room is rendered motionless. They also say it can unlock any door. Things like that. It'd be pretty valuable." She looked at Bela.

"So they say," Bela said, almost demurely. She lowered her eyes and looked down at her file.

"Well," Dean said. "It'd count as remains. Which explains why the spirit is sticking around."

"But it doesn't tell us how it's picking its victims," Sam pointed out.

"I'll tell you why," Bela said. Then, with great scorn, "Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, stop the bloody thing."

Dean looked at Rachel, who shrugged. "I mean, she's right. Its motives are less important now that we know there's a way to stop it. The problem is finding the hand. Where do we start looking?"

"I know where it is. It's at the museum, down by the harbor," Bela said. "I need help getting it."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Why exactly do you want it? You're not a hunter. You don't do things out of the goodness of your heart, either. So why bring this to us?"

Bela shrugged. "Like I told the boys, Gert Case stopped payment on her check when they told her the case on Sheila wasn't closed. If I can close the case, and get you to tell her it's closed, I get my money. Believe me, that's all I'm after: what I'm owed. But I can't do this alone."

"It's funny, you usually do things like this alone," Nathan said, coming back to the group. He sat next to Sam, Ashley in his lap.

She shook her head. "I need cover. The museum is holding a charity gala tonight. Gertrude has agreed to take us, but I need help actually getting the hand out." She looked from Dean to Rachel. "I don't usually go in and steal things myself."

"You stole the rabbit's foot," Dean said.

"No, I hired someone to steal the rabbit's foot. When you took it from them, I got it from you. But only because you got to them first. That's how I usually procure my items: through intermediaries. This is a special case, so I'm willing to get my hands dirty. But, like I said, I need help."

"And you're really willing to hand it over to be burned?" Rachel asked skeptically.

"I want the case closed," she reiterated. She looked serious and sincere.

Dean met Rachel's eyes. She looked like she didn't believe Bela, which was probably a wise thing. He didn't believe her either. Destroying an rare occult item didn't really seem her style.

"Why don't Sam and I just go in ourselves?"

Bela snorted. "Please. You at a charity gala? You need me to blend in just as much as I need you to do the actual liberating of the item."

"Then Rachel and I can go."

"And I'll stay with the baby! Brilliant." Bela gave a bright, happy smile.

"You don't need to be involved at all. Sam and Nathan can stay with the baby. You can take the night off."

"Gert has the invitation," Bela said. "And she thinks I'm working with Sam and Dean. She'll wonder why they're there and I'm not."

"Dean and I have the advantage of being married. He can be wherever I am for whatever reason," said Rachel.

"Okay, fine. You go and take Dean. But I'm going, too. I want to make sure the hand gets stolen without anyone noticing."

"It's not our first rodeo," Dean said. "I can get the hand out."

Bela shrugged. "I just think it's going to be crowded with all of us there. And, Rachel, no offense, but I don't think this kind of subterfuge is your strength."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I don't know much," she acknowledged. "But have you done this kind of thing before? Successfully, I mean?"

Doubt washed over Rachel's face. Dean wanted to jump to her defense, insist that she'd be fine, but, the truth was, he didn't want her there. If, and it was doubtful, but if he got caught, he didn't want her to get in trouble too. Sam could watch Ashley just fine, but it'd be better for all of them if Rachel avoided landing in jail even for the night.

But he wasn't going to say anything. It was her choice.

She heaved a heavy sigh. "I think I could do it just fine," she said. "But not with you there. You're right. We're one too many."

Bela smirked, but quickly schooled her face into something more sympathetic. "I assure you that, while I'll be hanging off his arm, my interest in Dean is nonexistence."

"Lady, I give two fucks about your interest in Dean. He's not interested in you, and that's all that matters," Rachel said, giving Bela a sideways look. Then she turned to Dean. "Don't let her out of your sight. I don't trust her."

"I don't trust any of you either," Bela said. "So we're even."

"Great. Just the foundation a team should be built on," Rachel said. "So. What do you need us to do?"


	15. Chapter 15

"I feel stupid."

Rachel smiled and rubbed her hand over the comforter on the bed. It was satiny and soft and she loved the texture. "I'm sure you look fine. Come out."

"Do I really have to do this? Why don't you and Bela go to the thing together? You're comfortable with dressing up."

"First off, Bela and me together would be a disaster. I'd end up killing her. And, second, you're much better at the stealing thing than I am, and you know it." She shook her head. "Just come out."

He sighed. "Fine." He came out of the bathroom.

Even after all this time, he could still make her blush with how handsome he was. He was wearing a tuxedo, all black tie and fitted jacket, and he looked beautiful. Rachel could feel her entire body flush with heat looking at him.

Dean ducked his head. "How bad is it?"

She let out a long breath. "It's so bad it makes me want to run out, get a wedding dress, and march you down the aisle. God, Dean, you look gorgeous."

His cheeks turned pink. "Yeah?"

She slid off the bed and went to him. Wrapped her arms around his neck and raised herself onto her toes. "You look like James Bond," she whispered. She kissed him.

"You hate James Bond," he murmured against her lips.

"Mmm." She opened her mouth and licked lightly at his lower lip. "But I can appreciate the aesthetic. And you look amazing."

He slid his hands up and down her back, raising goosebumps over her skin. "How much time to we have?"

She groaned and shook her head. "None. You need to get downstairs to meet your wife for the evening."

"Don't joke about that. Don't even say it. It's disgusting."

Rachel kissed him again, then rested her head against his. "Sorry. You need to meet your fake mistress for the evening."

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. "I've got a bad feeling about tonight."

"It'll be fine. You'll find the hand, burn it, come back, and then we'll spend the night having fun." She slid her hand down to his bottom and squeezed.

"Oh, Mrs. Winchester, I like the way you think."

* * *

She hadn't been able to sit still all night. Every time she tried to sit, she'd jump right to her feet, needing to do something. Nothing distracted her: not research, not TV, not reading. She'd played with Ashley until the baby had fallen asleep; that had distracted her somewhat. But now that she was put to bed, there was nothing to do but pace.

"Will you calm down?" Nathan said the fifth time Rachel passed him.

"You can't see me. I can't be that distracting."

"But I can hear you. You're thinking loudly. They'll be fine. They're not doing anything dangerous tonight."

She stopped pacing and looked at him in disbelief. "They're stealing an artifact from a museum. That's sounds dangerous to me. What if they get caught?"

"They won't."

The front door opened and slammed shut. Rachel turned.

The look on Dean's face told Rachel everything.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"Bela," he spat. "I had the hand, she somehow switched it out. I ended up with this and she swanned off with the hand." He tossed a ship in a bottle at Rachel.

She turned it over in her hand. It looked old, and the bottle had heft to it. It probably wasn't worth much, but she could see how the weight of it had fooled Dean into thinking he still had the hand.

"Good going, Dean," Nathan said.

"Nathan," she said, smacking him on the shoulder. "Damn it. I bet she already has someone to buy it." Frustration rolled through her, hot and sharp, clenching her stomach. "God, she told us herself that she doesn't steal things, she acquires them. So this time, instead of hiring someone, she used you and acquired it from you."

"So, basically, we're a bunch of gullible saps," Nathan said.

They fell silent.

Rachel went to the couch and sat down. Her head was aching. "I could have gotten us into the gala without her." She rubbed her eyes and sighed. "I should have gone instead."

"Beating ourselves up isn't going to do any good," Dean said. "I mean, it's fun, but…" He sat next to Rachel and took the bottle. "I don't think I'm going to kill her. I think slow torture is the way to go."

"In the meantime, we still have a homicidal ghost on our hands," Nathan said. "How are we going to stop it if we don't have the hand?"

"I've been thinking about that," Sam said. "And I think I know its motive."

Dean slung his arm over Rachel's shoulder and pulled her to him. "Care to enlighten the rest of the class?"

"Gertrude says the Warren brothers? Well their father didn't die of natural causes. People say they killed him for the money. And Shelia was in a car accident when she was a teenager. She was the driver, and her cousin was killed."

"I remember that," Rachel said. "It happened her senior year. It really messed her up."

Sam nodded. "So, we've got three victims, all who were responsible for the death of a family member. Seems like a pattern to me."

"Why would the ghost care?" Rachel asked.

"I was looking through the file Bela brought earlier," Sam said. He got up and went to the table, picking up the file. "There's a picture of the captain of the ship. Here." He pulled it out and handed it to Rachel.

She took it, leaning forward. "Okay, what am I looking at?"

"He's the brother of our ghost."

Rachel's mouth fell open. "He killed his brother?"

"In a trumped up trial, if Bela's research is to be believed." Sam tapped the file. "The ghost is killing people who killed blood because he was killed by blood."

"So we all we need to do if find someone who killed a family member, and we've got our next victim," Dean said. "That'll be easy."

"I didn't say it'd be easy," said Sam, rolling his eyes. "But knowing the motive helps us. A little."

"A very little." Nathan's voice was flat. "What do we do? Take an ad out in the paper? Post it on Craigslist? Did you kill a family member? Call 555-winchester."

"That's too many numbers," Dean said.

"Because that's what's stupid about it."

The doorbell rang.

"What the hell?" Dean looked around as if taking a headcount. "You think that's her?"

"She'd have to be stupid to come here," Sam said.

"Or desperate," Nathan suggested. "Maybe her buyer fell through."

The doorbell rang again. Dean got up and went to answer it. "What the hell?" they heard him demand.

"Just let me explain," Bela replied.

"Look, lady, I don't… hey!"

Bela strolled into the room, looking disheveled and grim. "I need your help."

Rachel laughed. She put the photo down and picked up the ship in the bottle. "Missing something?" She threw it at Bela with some force.

Bela caught it. "You don't understand."

"You just screwed us over and now you want our help? What, you didn't get enough for the hand, and now you want us to try and fence it for you?"

"Please. I already have my money, and the hand of glory is on its way across the ocean to its new owner. But." She let out a heavy sigh. "I saw the ship."

"What?"

"I saw the ship."

A look of deep disgust washed over Dean's face. "Wow, you know I knew you were an immoral thieving con artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower…"

"What are you talking about?" Bela asked.

Sam shifted in his seat. "We figured out the spirit's motive." He explained to her about the captain of the ship and his brother. "Shelia killed her cousin in a car accident. The Warren brothers murdered their father for inheritance. Now you."

Bela looked sick. She swallowed hard, face pale. She clenched her hands together, and Rachel would have bet anything they were shaking. "Oh my God."

"Who'd you kill?" Nathan asked. "Your dad? Maybe your little sis?"

She paled even further, but squared her jaw. "It's none of your business."

Rachel watched her narrowly. "It wasn't an accident, was it?" she said. "Not like Sheila. What did you do, Bela?"

"I don't have to justify myself to you," Bela snapped. "You wouldn't understand. No one did."

"What wouldn't we understand?"

She shook her head and ran her palms down her dress. "It was a mistake coming here. Never mind. I'll do what I've always done and handle this myself."

"Bela. You know you sold the only thing that could help you," Rachel said. It wasn't pity that she was feeling, not even sympathy. But, she wasn't a monster. She didn't want people to die. It was her job to make sure people didn't. Even someone as loathsome as Bela didn't deserve the fate that awaited her.

She sighed and looked at Dean. "There's got to be something we can do."

"What? No, come on, Rachel," Dean said. "Bela dug her own grave."

"Dean. We can't let someone die just because we don't like them. What is it you always say? We save people, hunt things. Here's a person that needs to be saved, and a thing that needs to be hunted." She shrugged. "Let's do our job."

Dean groaned and threw up his hands, but didn't protest further.

Sam chewed on his lower lip. "There might be a way," he said.

"How?" Bela's voice was flat, but there seemed to be just a little bit of hope in it.

"The ghost is after revenge," Sam said. "He's taking it out on people who've killed family, but what he wants is revenge. So. Let's summon both ghosts. Give the ghost what he wants: his brother."

"Do you think that will work?" Bela asked.

Sam shrugged. "Can't hurt to try."

"Okay, let's do it," Dean said. "What do we need?"

* * *

Luckily, the materials for the summoning spell were similar to what Rachel had used to summon the crossroads demon, so they had them on hand. The ritual was in John's journal, so all they had to do was find where the ghost was buried, which was easy enough.

While waiting for Sam and Dean to be done, Rachel tried looking into Bela's past. She didn't get very far. Bela was an alias and, try as she might, Rachel couldn't crack it and find who she really was. Rachel put some feelers out to the hunting world, trying to find someone who might have worked with her and might point Rachel in the right direction, but since it was the middle of the night, she wasn't getting much response.

Dean and Sam came in around five in the morning with the news that they'd been successful in saving Bela. With that, they'd all gone to bed and slept into the early afternoon.

"Any plans for today?" Rachel asked Dean over a late breakfast.

He rubbed his eyes. "I thought I'd take Ashley to the park. Get out of the house for a while and not have to worry about ghost ships and land drownings. You?"

"More research. Although the park sounds nice," she said wistfully. "Maybe I'll take a break today. Hang out with the two of you."

The doorbell rang.

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. "I swear, if that's her…"

"I got it!" Sam yelled from the front hall. A moment later, he and Bela appeared.

"What do you want?" Dean asked. "Did you come to say good-bye or thank you?"

She gave Dean a narrow eyed look. "I've come to settle affairs. So, here." She opened her bag and pulled out two stacks of money, which she threw at both Dean and Sam. "It's ten thousand. That should cover it." At their opened mouthed looks, she said, "I don't like being in anyone's debt."

"Bela," Rachel said. She grabbed Dean's stack of money and threw it back. "We don't need your money. We've got plenty enough of our own."

"Everyone needs money."

"Yeah," Dean said sounding dismayed.

Without taking her eyes from Bela, Rachel said, "Dean, you want ten thousand dollars, go to the bank and withdraw it. You're on the account, it won't be a problem. And it won't put a dent in our fortune. No, Bela, you can't pay us off with money." She paused, then said, "But if you don't like owing us, maybe there is something you can do."

"Like what?"

Rachel sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. "We're looking for information."

"Information?"

"We want to know the name of the demon who holds Dean's contract."

Bela looked alarmed. "And you think I know it?"

"No, of course not," Rachel said scornfully. "But you have contacts. I was hoping you'd use them to see if you can find anything out."

"I don't…" She stopped and cocked her head, considering. "Actually, I may know someone. They might be willing to talk to you. I'm not sure, but I can ask."

"Who do you know?"

Bela smiled. "Rachel, I can't tell you that, not without his permission. Let's just say, he's very powerful and very well connected. And if anyone knows who holds Dean's contract, it's probably him. I just don't know if he's willing to tell you. But, he might owe me a favor, in which case…."

"Might owe you a favor?" Dean asked.

She shrugged. "Our arrangement is nebulous. What I consider him owing me might not be what he considers owing me. And since he's a powerful demon, he sort of holds all the cards." She nodded at Rachel. "I'll talk to him. Give me a few days and I'll be in contact."

"Should we stay here?"

"Might as well. He's a crossroads demon, but a powerful one. And since you'll just be meeting with him, not dealing, he might be able to meet you in South Dakota. But I should be able to arrange it within a few days, if he's willing to meet you. So you might as well stay here. That's up to you." She turned to Sam and held her hand out.

He tossed the money to her. "You know a crossroads demon?"

"I, as Rachel said, have connections. I know a lot of things." She smiled brightly. "Well. This has all turned out rather well, I think. I'll just let myself out, shall I?"

"I'll see you out. Don't want anything disappearing," Sam said.

"We really must work on your trust issues, Sam. Good-bye all." She gave a cheeky little wave and swanned out of the room, Sam in tow.

Rachel sighed and closed her eyes. "Please let this pan out."

"You can't trust her," Dean said.

"I don't. I believe her when she said she wants to settle her debts, but I don't trust her not to twist this to her advantage. But I don't know enough about her to know what advantage it is." She sighed. "I'm so tired, Dean."

He reached out and took her hand. "Let's take the day off. You've been researching nonstop these past few days, and now you're looking into her on top of everything else. You can't run yourself into the ground." He squeezed her hand. "You promised you wouldn't go overboard with this stuff. You promised you take time to be with me."

"I know." She smiled and nodded. "I'll take the day off. We'll have fun with Ashley. And then," she added, running her foot up his leg, "with each other."

"Oh, baby, you read my mind."


	16. Chapter 16

Two days later Bela called.

"He said he'll meet you," she said. "There's a diner on Whalley Ave. He'll meet you there tomorrow at three o'clock."

"Does this demon have a name?" Rachel asked.

"His name is Crowley."

"What, like from _Good Omens_?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Bela responded. "Look, there are conditions. He said you can bring Sam or Nathan, not both. Not Dean. You may not bring the Colt. And if you try to exorcise him or trap him in any way, he will call the hellhounds down on Dean so fast your head will spin."

Rachel swallowed. She hadn't been planning on exorcising the demon, not if he agreed to meet with her, but she didn't like going in without it being an option. And the Colt was never her favorite backup, but to have nothing…

"I'll leave the Colt at home," she finally said. Then, with a wince, she added, "And no exorcising. But he has to promise that he won't do anything either."

"He won't hurt you. You're meeting at a neutral location without any weapons."

"Demons are weapons," Rachel said.

"You either can trust him or not. It's up to you."

She exhaled hard and nodded. "Okay. I'll meet him. Thanks."

"I'm only doing this to pay off a debt," Bela said. "Don't make this out as something more than it is."

"Oh, don't worry. I never would make that mistake."

Two days later, she and Sam sat in a booth in a midscale diner. She had a cup of coffee in front of her that Sam had tried to talk her out of. She'd already four cups that day and felt she was vibrating out of her skin. But she needed something to do with her hands, and pouring sugar into the mug gave her something.

"Don't you think that's enough sugar?" Sam asked as she poured the fourth packet in.

"It's strong coffee," she said. She stirred and took a sip, wincing. "It's still too strong."

"Best coffee in the state," a gravelly voice said. "It'll put hair on your chest if you let it." A man slid into the opposite side of the booth.

Rachel let out a long, slow breath as she studied the demon in front of her. Unlike the crossroads demon she'd summoned, Crowley wasn't unearthly beautiful. He wasn't horrible looking. He was even handsome in an understated way, but it wasn't overwhelming the way the other man had been. It made her suspicious. Most demons seems to go for gorgeous people. What was this one playing at?

"Are you Crowley?" she asked.

He quirked an eyebrow. "In the flesh, love. And you're Rachel Adams Winchester, and you're, well. Gigantor Winchester, apparently."

Sam frowned. "Thank you for meeting with us."

"Well. I guess you can say I owed Bela. And I was interested in seeing the two pests who've taken out my minions. I thought maybe by meeting with you face to face and explaining there's no hope in your futile quest, it might save me the pain of having to train new recruits."

"Your minions?" Rachel said, choosing to ignore his other remarks for now. Of course he was going to say it was hopeless. It didn't mean it was.

"Yes, my minions. I run the crossroads, they work for me."

Her breath caught and her stomach twisted.

"So you hold Dean's contract?" Sam said. He shot Rachel a look.

Never had she wanted the Colt so badly in her life. She wished she hadn't agreed to his terms and had brought it anyway. Sam had wanted to, had argued with her about leaving it behind. If she had listened…. if they could kill Crowley….

"Calm yourselves," Crowley said. "Because I don't. I run the crossroads, but I'm more of a manager."

"I swear to God, if you say 'ska band,' I will exorcise you right here," Sam said, fist clenched on the table.

He smiled. "I wasn't planning on it, no. I find the metaphor distasteful myself." He titled his head. "I meant manager in the literal sense. There's the CEO above me who holds the contracts, there's me, who runs the show, and there's the worker bees, who make the deals for me."

"Do you make deals?"

"Not with your, princess." He shook his head. "You've been marked by something powerful and strange. I can't guarantee my safety if I were to make a deal with you. I suspect that we'd be inches from sealing the deal, and I'd be obliterated from the face of the Earth."

Her hand went to her side, where the trickster and Azazel's sigils still marred her skin. They'd never been able to decipher what the trickster had written in the confines of Azazel's mark; they hadn't even been able to see it. She wasn't, however, surprised that Crowley could sense it.

"Do you know what the trickster is?"

"Powerful. And I'm leaving it at that." His eyes slid to Sam. "I might deal with you, if you asked nicely."

She kicked Sam under the table. The last thing any of them needed was Sam selling his soul for Dean's soul after Dean had sold his soul to save Sam. God, they really needed to find a way to solve their problems in a way that didn't involve selling their souls.

He shot Rachel a look and shook his head. "No, thank you."

"I wasn't asking for you to deal with me," Rachel said. "I just meant it academically. Do you make deals too?"

"When I feel like slumming it. Or when the soul is rich enough, yeah, I make deals."

"So, if you don't hold the contracts, who does?"

Crowley sat back and gestured with his hand. A tumbler full of something alcoholic appeared on the table. He picked it up and took a drink. "What do you think is going to happen if I tell you? What do you imagine knowing the name of the demon who holds the contract will do?"

"She'll be easier to summon, for one thing. Summon, trap, and kill."

"And you think killing her will release Dean?"

"Will it?"

He tilted his head. "No. The contract will still exist even if she dies. You need her to agree to render it void before you kill her. That's the only way to get Dean out of the contract. Of course…"

"Of course what?"

Crowley ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his glass. "If she dies, then all the contracts come to me. And I might be willing to bargain."

"I thought you just said you weren't going to deal with me."

He shook his finger. "I didn't say deal. I said bargain. You give something to me, I release Dean from his contract."

"I'm not giving you my soul."

"I don't want your soul. As I said, something else has claim on it, and I am not going to interfere. I was thinking of something more tangible."

"Like what?"

"The Colt."

"No," Sam said, but Rachel put his hand on his arm.

"What do you want the Colt for?"

"So you don't have it. So no one has it, and it can't be used to kill someone important. Like me."

"And you would break Dean's contract if we gave it to you?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

She cracked her jaw and lifted her coffee. Her hands shook and some spilled over the sides, but she took a drink. "When, exactly, would you want the Colt?"

"I'd need it by the end of tomorrow."

"That's not enough time," she said with a disbelieving smile. "We'd need it to kill the demon who holds Dean's contract, and I don't know…"

"You have one minute to decide."

She looked at Sam, who shook his head. A hopeless feeling settled in her stomach, but she agreed. They needed time to prepare against a powerful demon, Colt or know. Her blessed circles wouldn't be enough to hold something so powerful. Nothing short of a devil's trap would, she suspected. But she needed time to research.

"I'm sorry, but no," she said. "We need it to kill whoever holds the contract."

"Sam could do it. He is, technically, her commander."

"What?" Sam said.

Crowley sighed and took another drink. "I swear this has been explained to you before. But since you seem to be exceptionally slow, I'll explain it again with tiny words. Azazel chose you to command his army. All demons are subordinate to you."

"Including you."

"All I have to do is blink, and hellhounds will be on your brother," Crowley said. His voice was mild, but his expression was hard and unforgiving. "But, yes. Technically speaking. And the demon who holds your contract is trying to take your place. You could use your powers to strip her of hers and kill her."

Sam shook his head. "No. No, I'm not using my powers. Besides, I can't…"

"If you practice, you could."

"Please," Rachel said. She'd meant to sound authoritative and confident, but her voice shook a little as she said it. "Can you just tell us her name? We'll figure out the rest. How to break the contract and take her down. Just… a name."

"And why should I give you that?"

"The demon I met mentioned that he wanted someone else in charge." She leaned forward and tilted her head. She was playing a long shot, but if Crowley ran the crossroads… "Someone who'd treat him more fairly. That has to be you. Right?"

Crowley smiled and swirled his drink. "He may have been referring to me. I have been known to be fair when it comes to my minions."

"You already have followers. And I bet you want to be in charge. Imagine: King of the Crossroads. You'd have it all. And we could give it to you."

"Oh, could you, now?"

"Well, we could try." Her heart was beating fast and her palms were damp. "What if we promise to get rid of her and put you in charge? Would you release Dean then?"

He seemed to consider it. "How do I know that you won't just turn around and kill me with the Colt the moment I do it?"

"We're not demons."

"No, but you're hunters."

"Crowley, if you released Dean from his contract, the last thing on our mind would be killing you. Come on. It's a good trade."

Crowley thought a moment longer, then nodded. "Her name is Lilith."

The breath escaped her with a rush. She felt like she'd been punched. "You're kidding."

"What, you expected something else? She's the first demon, very old, very powerful. She's been imprisoned deep in hell for centuries. When he opened the devil's gate, Azazel released her. Now she's out and she's got a taste for it. But there's more."

"What more?"

"Sam. She views him as a rival. Right now, she's running the army, and she doesn't want Sam taking over."

"I don't want the damn army."

"Your desire isn't her concern. Your potential is. You were supposed to be the head. She needs you out of the way to secure her place as Hell's leader. Find a way to trap her and kill her, and maybe I'll be magnanimous and release Dean without the Colt. Maybe."

"Why?"

"Because, quite frankly, I don't want her plans to succeed. I quite like the world as it is." He picked up his glass and downed the rest. Then, something beeped. He pulled a phone out of his breast pocket and looked at the screen. "Well. Looks like we're done. You have your name and your information, and my debt to Bela has been paid. All in all, I think we all got what we wanted."

She exchanged looks with Sam. "Thank you," she said. The words tasted weird on her tongue. It was weird thanking a demon, letting him leave. Although, honestly, she was fairly sure if she started the exorcism ritual, he'd shrug it off and leave without being bothered. He was powerful and he exuded that power.

"You're welcome, princess. Moose." He nodded and then vanished.

* * *

"Why were you so surprise that the demon is Lilith?" Sam asked as they pulled up in front of the house.

"I wasn't surprised," Rachel said. "I mean, I was, but just because I came across her name so many times and rejected it as a possibility." She parked the car and got out. "At first, I rejected it because it was the first name I found, and I figured it couldn't be that simple. Then I read that she was imprisoned deep in Hell, and figured it couldn't be her. I just… maybe we could already be working on a plan if…" She stopped talking as the front door swung open at her touch.

Dean was lying on the floor of the hall, unconscious.

Terror washed over her. "Ashley," Rachel gasped. She stepped over Dean and ran to the family room.

Nathan was sprawled on the ground, Ginger beside him. Nathan snored softly.

She looked frantically around.

Ashley was in the playpen, on her knees, rocking back and forth. She was alert and babbling to herself.

"Ashley?"

She looked up. When she saw Rachel, she squealed, face breaking into a bright smile.

"Oh, thank God." Tears came fast, spilling over her cheeks. She went to the playpen and lifted Ashley out. "I thought something happened to you," she said, snugging the baby close. She couldn't believe how relieved she felt, to know that her baby was safe. "Oh, baby, you're okay." She kissed her over and over again, covering the tiny face.

"What's going on?" Dean asked, sounding groggy.

"I don't know," she gasped. She turned to see Dean stumbling into the room, leaning heavily on Sam. "What happened?"

"I don't…" He fell onto the couch and rubbed his eyes. "I feel like I've been sleeping for a year. How long have you been gone?"

"About two hours," Sam answered. He was crouching over Nathan, shaking gently. "What do you remember?"

"Uh." He rubbed his eyes again. "We were in here. The doorbell rang. Bela. She blew something in my face. That's all I remember."

Nathan snorted on the floor. Opened his eyes. "What… what's happening? What's going on?" He sounded panicked.

"You're fine, Nate," Sam soothed. He helped Nathan sit up. "Bela did something to you. You were asleep."

"Best sleep I've gotten in a while, then." He grabbed onto Sam and got to his feet, weaving slightly. "Is Ginger okay?"

"She's asleep, too." He led Nathan to a couch. They both sat. "So. Bela came and put a spell on you. She wasn't after Ashley. What did she take?"

Rachel wiped her tears away. "I'll go check the safe, but there are a lot of artifacts here. She could have taken anything." Readjusting her grip on Ashley, she went down the hall to the study.

The safe was open. It has been rifled through, and Rachel would check the inventory list later to see if anything else was missing, but she could tell right away what had been taken. The tears came again, this time white hot with rage.

She went back to the family room. "She took the Colt."


	17. Chapter 17

Nathan snored softly. He was curled up at Sam's side, head pressed against Sam as he absentmindedly stroked Nathan's back. His insomnia had eased somewhat in the past few weeks. After some trial and experimentation, they found the best way to get Nathan to sleep was for Sam to rub Nathan's back with slow, steady strokes in time with his breathing. It relaxed him, and the hour and a half it had been taking for Nathan to get to sleep had dialed back to about forty-five minutes.

Tonight, though, it was Sam's turn to not be able to sleep. His mind was too busy whirling with what Crowley had told them.

He could stop Lilith. He could kill her. Strip her of her powers and kill her. And, with Lilith gone, Crowley would be in charge. Surely he'd release Dean from the contract in exchange. charge.

If he could be trusted. If Sam could do it.

But that would involve using his powers. And they'd all agreed that using his powers was a Very Bad Thing. And, really, Sam didn't disagree. Knowing that the powers came from demon blood he'd been fed as a child made him uncomfortable. More than that. It disgusted him. Made him disgusted with himself.

But if he could get Dean out of his contract…

He shook his head. This was crazy. He couldn't do this.

But if it saved Dean…

He rolled out of bed, careful not to wake Nathan. The house was silent at this hour, not that it really mattered. Rachel and Dean might as well be on the moon. The master suite was separate from the guest room Nathan and Sam were in, and he doubted anyone could hear him as he slipped out of the house and drove away.

He drove aimlessly until he found a park. It was empty this time of night, spooky and silent as he pulled up and climbed out of the car.

"Finally," Ruby said, appearing next to him almost as soon as he closed the door. "I thought you'd never leave that fortress you're staying in."

"What, you can't get in?"

She gave him a scornful look. "You obviously know I can't, since you're here. Rachel's grandfather was paranoid with a capital P, and the place was already warded and protected up the wazoo when it was built. The Carmichaels, man. Generations of paranoia, killed by a demon anyway."

"Isn't that the fate of most hunters? You poke the supernatural, it pokes back," Sam said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Aren't too many of you guys that die of old age. How is Dean, anyway? Get him out of his contract yet?"

He glared at her. "We found out who holds his contract. A demon named Lilith. Have you heard of her?"

"Of course I heard of her. Everyone has heard of her."

"Did you know she held Dean's contract?"

Ruby averted her eyes. "I may have heard something to effect. But I didn't think you were ready to know."

Sam clenched his fists and reminded himself that hitting her wouldn't do any good. It wouldn't hurt the demon, and it might hurt the meatsuit she was possessing. "When did you think I'd be ready?"

"When you were. When you realized that the only way to save your brother was to do it yourself. You can do it, Sam. And only you. You have the power to kill her, and I needed you desperate enough to want to do it. I can teach you, Sam. Are you ready to learn?"

His stomach churned. It felt so wrong, just contemplating using his powers seemed wrong. But if they helped Dean…

"I met a demon. Crowley. He said I could kill Lilith. Not just exorcise her, but kill her. Was he telling the truth?"

She nodded. "You're the commander of the army, Sam. Your power over us is absolute. Even over Lilith."

"But if I kill her, Dean's contract goes to Crowley."

"So you trap him, and you threaten him, and you make him release Dean from the contract." Ruby stepped closer to Sam and looked up at him earnestly. "I know you're afraid of these powers, but they're the only way to get what you want. It's the only way to save Dean."

Sam closed his eyes. He knew she was right. All the research, all the demons they talked to, losing the Colt, everything led back to the same conclusion: Sam's powers were the only way.

He could do this. He wasn't going to be like the others. He wouldn't turn into a murdering psychopath. The only reason he was going to use his powers was to save Dean, and good intentions had to count for something.

He opened his eyes. "Okay. How do we start?"

* * *

"Sam snuck out last night," Nathan said.

Rachel looked up from her cereal. "What?"

"In the middle of the night. He left. I woke up, and he wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere in the house, not that I could find."

"Maybe…"

"Rachel."

She sighed and put her spoon down. "Where do you think he went?"

"To see Ruby."

"But why?"

Nathan sighed and rubbed his temples. "With the Colt gone, he's got to be desperate. And you said Crowley told him he could kill Lilith. And Ruby's been whispering in his ear all this time about his powers, and that we have nothing else…"

Rachel pushed her cereal bowl away and rested her head on the table. "I don't think another talk is going to do anything, do you?"

"We've had plenty of talks. They don't seem to be sinking in." He tapped his fingers on the table. "He's going to a dark place. And there's nothing we can do about it."

There really wasn't. They'd discussed Sam using his powers to death, and every time he seemed to agree, and then he went and saw Ruby again. And now that they'd lost the Colt…

"We need to find Bela. If we could find out what she did with it…"

"What are we going to do? Threaten her?"

"At this point, I'm willing to outbid her buyer, if she'd give us a chance." She pushed herself up. "I've traced her back a few years, but haven't found out who she is yet. Right now, I know that before she became Bela Talbot, supernatural objects dealer, she was Lucy Chaney, spiritualist and medium. That was back in 2004."

"So she was, what? Twenty?"

"Maybe? Probably. She's around our age."

"If she was that young and already successfully on the take, she can't still have parents. I bet that's who she killed."

Rachel nodded, then shook her head. "We don't know she actually killed them. Just that she was responsible for a family member's death."

"It wasn't an accident, though. She sounded guilty."

Rachel wasn't responsible for Nathan being blind, but she still felt guilty about it. But she wasn't going to say that. Besides, he was right: Bela had deliberately caused the death of someone in her family. It hadn't been an accident; the look on her face had told Rachel everything.

"I don't know what we're going to do," Rachel said. "I can find out who Bela was and what happened, but we're not getting the Colt back. I can feel it. It's gone. And that means Dean…" She stopped, a sob cutting her off.

Nathan reached across the table and groped around until he found her hand. He squeezed it. "I don't want to sound cruel, but maybe it's time to accept…"

"I can't. I don't want him to die."

"But, in the meantime, you're missing his life. What he has left of his life. You're in the library all day, you're reading all night. You're not spending time with him and Ashley like you should, and if all this research comes to nothing…"

"But if it doesn't…"

Nathan sighed and squeezed her hand again. "Look. It's almost Christmas. Let's go home and spend Christmas there. Put all this aside and just be a family. Just for a little while. And then we'll go back and try again."

He was right. She knew he was right. She definitely didn't want to spend Christmas in this mausoleum; it wasn't their home. "Okay." She squeezed his hand, then pulled hers away to wipe her eyes. "The hard thing will be convincing Sam to give up, even just a little bit."

"I wish there was a way to get him to see that he can't do everything. Or anything."

"Nathan," she started to chastise, because while Nathan was convinced everything was hopeless, but she wasn't ready to give up hope yet.

But she was cut off by a sudden shiver in the air. Her blood turned to fizz and her head spun. Nathan gasped and grabbed his head.

"The books," she choked out. She forced herself to her feet and ran, stumbling, as if running was going to make her fast enough to stop the trickster.

As she ran up the stairs to the library, she could hear Ashley squealing with delight in the bedroom. She made it to the second floor and turned the corner, sprinting until she got to the library.

"Please, please, please," she begged, flipping through the texts. It was one thing if her books were turned to porn, but these books were hundreds of years old. Some of them were worth thousands of dollars. It would be a travesty if they were transformed.

"What's going on?" Dean demanded. He had Ashley in his arms, his hair sticking up all over the place. "Nathan's downstairs shouting about the trickster, and Ashley's going crazy."

Rachel flopped into the nearest chair and let out a sigh of relief. "The trickster just blew through. I thought he was changing the books again, but they're okay. He didn't touch them."

"I thought you said nothing could get into this place. That it had protections on it."

"Obviously there isn't a protection against a pagan god that isn't a pagan god." She rubbed her forehead. "I don't know why he was here. Maybe he just came to see Ashley."

"Oh, that makes me feel better." Dean sat down and put Ashley on his lap. "So. Your books are okay. I guess that means you'll be hitting them again?" He sounded like the thought depressed him

That made her sad. She'd promised him that she'd be there for him, but she hadn't. Not the past month. She'd spent almost every spare moment in the library, ignoring him and Ashley. She'd even missed Ashley's first few crawls because she'd been buried in books.

Nathan was right. This was not how she wanted to remember the year. If the worst was to happen, she wanted memories of being with Dean, not of all the time she spent researching.

"No," she said, reaching for his hand. "No, I think that I've found out about as much as I need to from here. There's a few books I'm going to take home, but..." She shrugged. "We found out who has your contract. We know that Crowley might be willing to release you from your contract if we kill her. We know who to kill now. So, I'm done." She smiled. "Let's go home."

His face lit up. "Yeah." Then it fell again. "Don't suppose you want to come the long way. I mean, she's sleeping through the night."

Her heart fell. This was the sore point. She got that he wanted to spend as much time with his daughter, but the drive was just too much. For all of them, but mostly for Ashley. Especially now that Ashley getting more and more active.

"Dean, is it fair to make your daughter sit in a car for days on end, driving? Immobilized in that little seat for hours a day? And then sleeping in motel rooms, where she doesn't have the room she needs to really crawl and play?" She shook her head. "She's just too young for that."

"Yeah, I know." He dropped his head on top of Ashley's and sighed. "But this is it, right? No more trips across country?"

"If we have to do it again, we'll drive." She raised her right hand at her look, and said, "I swear."

"I'm holding you to that. Okay. Let's go home."


	18. Chapter 18

" _It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant_."

Sam opened his eyes and immediately winced. It was much, much too early. He'd spent most of the night in an abandoned house a few blocks from the motel with Ruby. They were working on getting him to access his powers. It was slow going and the effort was largely resulting in headaches, which made the drive back to Sioux Falls a pain in the ass. He hated sneaking out on Dean, hated trying to tap into these forbidden powers, but it was a necessary evil. If there was even the slightest chance he'd be able to save Dean…

But he wasn't having any luck. They were starting with bending spoons, since the last time he'd used his powers, they'd manifested with telekinesis. Last night, he'd managed to bend one, but mostly all he got for his efforts was a raging headache. His body hurt, too, and the thought of sitting another twelve hours in the car depressed him.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean boomed from the other bed. The closer to home they got, the happier he became. They were currently in Iowa, only about a day away.

Sam wasn't going to make it. Every part of his body hurt, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

"Dude," he groaned, pulling a pillow over his face. "Asia?"

"Come on. You love this song, and you know it."

"If I ever hear it again, I'm killing myself."

Dean turned the music up. "What? Sorry, I couldn't hear you."

Sam lifted the pillow from his head and threw it in the general direction of the alarm clock. It landed on top of it with a thump. The pillow muffled the sound somewhat, but not enough.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked.

"Headache. Body aches. I feel like crap."

"Got too used to sleeping in that marshmallow of a mattress. Motel mattresses will firm you up, make a man out of you."

"Can we, maybe, stay an extra day?" Sam asked. "I really don't think I can handle the drive."

"What, are you kidding?"

Sam sat up.

Dean had been shoving clothes into his duffel bag, but was now standing still, staring at Sam in shock.

"Just one day. We drove almost fifteen hours straight yesterday. I'm beat. I might be coming down with something. I just need a day without driving."

"That day can be tomorrow."

"One day won't…"

"Don't finish that sentence, Sam." Dean's face was a thundercloud. "You don't get it. I have a kid. Every second matters, and I've lost almost two days already."

He winced and looked down. "Sorry."

Dean let out a huff of breath. "Let's just get breakfast. If you're not feeling any better, we can hang around for a while. A few hours won't hurt. Maybe we can check out that mystery spot we saw all those signs for. Those are always good for a laugh."

It wasn't exactly the rest that Sam wanted, but it was better than nothing. He'd take it, especially after sticking his foot in his mouth. When your days were numbered, every day counted, and Sam knew that.

"Yeah, let's get breakfast."

* * *

" _It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant_."

Sam opened his eyes.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean crowed.

Sam sat up, heart pounding. The last thing he remembered was Dean getting shot at the mystery spot. Over breakfast, they'd discovered a man had gone missing there. They'd gone to take a look, and then Dean had decided poke around in a closed off section of the attraction. The owner had caught them, and way overreacted, bringing his shotgun with him. Dean had tried to talk him down, but the gun had gone off and…

There'd been blood everywhere. Dean had stopped breathing and then…

"What the hell?"

* * *

" _It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant_."

Sam opened his eyes and immediately winced.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean crowed.

Sam sat up and slammed his hand down on the alarm clock. "Dean, something is going on," he said.

"You turned off Asia? What are you, some kind of monster?"

"Focus! Dean, what day is it?"

"Tuesday."

He shook his head. "No, but yesterday was Tuesday, too."

"What? Sam, you're talking crazy."

"It's the same day. Yesterday and the day before, both Tuesday. Both days, I woke up to Asia, feeling like crap."

"You can't feel like crap listening to Asia, Sam."

He brushed Dean's words away. "Something is going on. Call Rachel."

"It's seven-thirty in the morning. She'd kill me."

"Ashely gets her up at six."

"But the rules about calling before ten still apply." He began stuffing clothes into his bag.

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed Dean's phone.

"Sam, don't…"

But Sam had already dialed Rachel's number. He pushed Dean away as he lunged for Sam.

Dean stumbled and tripped over his shoelaces. He fell, and his head crashed down hard on the corner of the nightstand.

"Dean. Dean!"

* * *

" _It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant_."

Sam opened his eyes.

"Hello?"

"Rachel? It's me, Sam."

"Why are you whispering?"

Sam was grateful she couldn't see him. Not only was he whispering, but he was crouched next to the bed, out of sight so Dean couldn't see him. Dean had died the last four mornings in a row when Sam had tried to call Rachel. This morning, he waited until Dean was in the bathroom to try.

"Rachel, I am caught in some kind of time loop."

"A time loop? What does that mean?"

"I keep living the same day over and over again."

"Like the _Star Trek_ episode?"

"I have no idea. Like _Groundhog Day_."

"What happens?"

"Dean dies and the day resets. Back to the morning. I can't stop it."

"How many times have we had this conversation?"

There was a loud thump in the bathroom.

"Dean?" Sam shouted.

* * *

"How many times have we had this conversation?" Rachel asked.

"Four," Sam said. He peeked out of the doorway of the bathroom of the diner.

Dean was sitting at the table, drinking his coffee. He didn't have his food out yet, so no chance of him choking. Although, he'd already done that and, so far, he hadn't died the same way twice.

"Okay. So, what should I do?"

"What do you know about time loops?"

"I've never heard of one…"

There was a loud crash.

* * *

"How many times have we had this conversation?" Rachel asked.

"Eleven."

"And it keeps happening? It doesn't sound like I'm helping, Sam."

"We never get to finish the conversation. I'm hoping today is the day."

"I don't know what I can do. I didn't know time loops could really happen. Not in real life."

"What could cause something like that?" Sam stared wearily at Dean, who was sitting across from him, looking annoyed. He'd actually taken the initiative to call Rachel this morning when Sam had told him what was going on. Sam had taken the phone from him.

"Something powerful," she said. "Maybe high ranking demon could. Lilith might have the power, although I'm not sure why she would. She wants Dean dead, so why would she reset the day?"

"You said that before."

"Okay. Maybe Crowley?"

"I tried summoning him."

"What happened?"

"Dean caught fire and died."

She swore. "Have you tried not trying to stop it?"

"What do you mean?"

"In the movie, the day only stopped looping when Billy Murry's character gave in and lived the day. He lived life to the fullest, and it stopped."

"But…"

Dean leaned, hand out like he was going to take the phone. The busboy, who walked by every day and slipped, did his routine. His tray came flying up and smashed into Dean's nose.

Sam winced, watching the bone dislodge and be thrust upward.

"Dean!"

* * *

"How many times have we had this conversation?" Rachel asked.

Sam rubbed his eyes despairingly. He hadn't even wanted to call Rachel. He hadn't wanted to call her the last forty times, but Dean always pulled his phone out and dialed, no matter what Sam said. He was stuck in this hell and he now could repeat the conversations verbatim. "I've lost count," he admitted. "Look, you don't have any ideas."

"Well, it has to be something powerful."

"'Maybe high ranking demon'," Sam quoted. " 'Lilith might have the power, although I'm not sure why she would. She wants Dean dead, so why would she reset the day?'"

"That's what I was going to say."

"I know. I've already tried to summon Crowley. I tried to summon Lilith. Hell, I even tried calling Ruby. It went to voicemail. The only thing that happens is Dean dies again. No one comes, no one answers, there's nothing."

There was a beat of silence, and then Rachel said, "You have a phone number for Ruby?"

"That's not important," Sam snapped. "Unless you have any new ideas…"

"What about a pagan god?" Rachel asked. "Like a god that controls time. Or reality."

Huh. Something new. "A pagan god. But what would its motive be?"

"Besides enjoying watching you watch Dean die? I have no idea. But, if it is a god, if you figure out which one, I'll bet you can figure out its motive."

He sighed, thinking about the endless list of pagan gods. "This is going to take forever."

"Sounds like you've got forever," Rachel said.

"Can I talk to my wife, now?" Dean asked.

Sam handed the phone over to Dean, who put it up to his ear.

The phone promptly exploded, taking half of Dean's head with it.

* * *

"So, someone went missing at the mystery spot," Sam said. He was so sick of this diner's food. He'd had everything on the menu, and his stomach was now rejecting food. Nothing tasted good anymore, nothing filled him up. The whole world was becoming… thin. Nebulous. Like it wasn't quite real anymore. "His name was Dexter Hasselback."

"You think he has something to do with this time loop?" asked Dean, happily chowing down on his pig in a poke.

"I don't know. We've investigated his disappearance. We've talked to his daughter. I tried tearing down the mystery spot. You die everything time." He rubbed his eyes. "He's a professor, but more than that. His daughter told me that he's also a journalist. He writes about tourists attractions—mystery spots, UFO crash sites—and gets his kicks debunking them. He's put four of them out of business." He turned his laptop around and showed Dean.

"Dexter Hasselback, truth warrior? More like a pompous schmuck, you ask me."

"Yeah," Sam said. Something niggled in the back of his mind. Something… something Rachel had said days ago, and Dean's words now. But what was it? "I mean, I've read everything the guy's ever written, and he must have weighed a ton, he was so full of himself."

Dean gave him a look. "When did you have time to do all this research?"

Sam sighed. "Come on."

"It's funny, though," Dean said, laughing, as they got up. "I mean, this guy spends his whole life crapping on mystery spots and then he vanishes into one. It's kinda poetic. You know, just desserts."

He stopped, stomach dropping. "Yeah. Just desserts." His eyes zeroed in on the syrup bottle next to an abandoned plate.

A hundred Tuesdays, that bottle had been maple. Today, it was strawberry.

Syrup. Just desserts. A pagan god.

Son of a bitch.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked. He took a step. Slipped.

* * *

" _It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant_."

Sam opened his eyes.

* * *

Sam waited until the man left the diner. Then he got up and followed him out.

"Sam? Where you going? Sam?" Dean called, following.

Picking up speed, Sam caught up with the man. He grabbed him and slammed him into a fence.

"Hey!" the man said. Then he looked up at Sam and his eyes widened.

"I know who you are," Sam said. He pulled a wooden stake out of his pocket and held it, threateningly, to the man's throat. "Or, rather, what you are. Why are you doing this?"

"Oh my God, please don't kill me," the man begged.

"Sam?" Dean said warily.

"It took me a long time to get it, but I did. I get it now."

"What?"

"It's the MO that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts—your kind loves that, don't they?"

"Yeah, sure, okay. Just put the stake down!"

"Sam, maybe we should…"

"No! There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops—in fact you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a trickster."

"Mister, my name is Ed Coleman. My wife's name is Amelia. I got two kids. For crying out loud, I sell ad space…"

"Don't lie to me! We've faced one of your kind before."

The man's terrified expression washed away. And then his face melted away and he transformed into the janitor they'd met back in Ohio.

"Well, close. You faced me before, and, let's face it, you didn't come off very good then, either." He grinned, face lighting up. "I ran you and your brother around in circles. Messed you up so bad that you had to call in reinforcements."

"And then you kidnapped my wife," Dean said.

The trickster slid his eyes from Sam and Dean's face. "I helped your wife. And your baby. You're welcome by the way." He looked back to Sam.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I have my reasons."

"Last time, we gave up the hunt. We let you go…"

"You let me go because I made a bargain with Rachel, not out of the goodness of your heart," the trickster said. "Let's not pretend that we came to an accord, then held hands and sang Kumbaya. You got something, I got something. We're starting on even footing now."

"But you go after the high and mighty. The ones who are preying on the weak and powerless. How are Dean and I high and mighty?"

The trickster laughed. "You think I always follow a strict set of code or something? I'm a trickster. I'm chaos. Someone looks fun to mess around with, I'm going to mess around."

"That's why you're doing this? You think it's fun to kill Dean over and over again?"

"One, yes. Oh, yes, it's a lot of fun. And two?" The mirth melted off his face, leaving behind a deadly seriousness that made Sam back off a step. "This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die, every day? Forever?"

Oh, God. He was stuck in this hell, forever, because the trickster had it out for him. "You son of a bitch."

"When I first started this, I never thought it would take this long. You're supposed to be the smart brother. The one with the brains. And yet, you still don't seem to get it, so let me spell it out for you: you can't save your brother. No matter what."

He stepped closer and raised the stake. "Oh, yeah? I kill you and this all ends now."

"Like you kill Lilith, and your brother is out of his contract? Only, no. You've been told that's not the way it works, haven't you? And you're still after her."

His heart skipped a beat. "Crowley said…"

"Oh, you're going to trust a demon's word. That's a smart bet."

Sam swallowed, doubts creeping in. Then he shook his head. "But you're doing this to me. You're controlling this. Maybe killing Lilith won't save Dean, but killing you sure will." He pressed the stake into the trickster's neck.

The trickster's eyes widened. "Oh-oh, hey, whoa." He held up his hands, looking alarmed. "Okay. Look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear."

It couldn't be that easy. These things always lied, always had another trick up their sleeves. "You're lying."

"If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner."

Sam looked back at Dean, considering. "I think it'd be easier just to kill you."

"Sorry, kiddo. Can't have that." He snapped his fingers.

" _Promise me I'll be back in time."_

Sam opened his eyes and sat up. He was back in the motel room, lying in bed.

"What, you going to sleep all day?" Dean said, sounding grumpy and out of sorts. He was standing in the bathroom, arms crossed, glaring.

"No Asia," Sam said.

"Yeah, I know, this station sucks."

He looked back at the alarm clock. "It's Wednesday!"

"Yeah. Wednesday usually come after Tuesday. How many Tuesdays did you have, anyway?"

Sam slung his legs out of bed and grabbed his shirt. "I don't know. I lost count." He pulled it over his head and looked at Dean. "You remember?"

Dean came back into the room. "I remember you were pretty whacked out of it yesterday, and then I remember running into the Trickster. And I remember we lost a day with my daughter. But that's about it."

"All right, pack your stuff. We're getting out of town."

Sam ran into the bathroom to wash up, trusting that Dean would follow his directions. Trusting that it was all over now, that Dean was safe.

He should have known. He should have trusted his first instinct and killed the trickster where he stood. He never should have listened to him. Because he had barely finished packing when he heard a gunshot go off.

"No." He ran out of the motel.

Dean was on his knees by his car. His side was a bloody mess. Even as Sam ran to the car, he could see the light in Dean's eyes go out. The body fell. Hit the ground.

This time, Sam didn't wake back up.

* * *

The world lost all sense of coherency after that. Every day, it became more and more unreal. Shutting everyone out was easy, because everyone was just a puppet wearing a mask. Sam couldn't explain it, and he didn't want to listen to Rachel and Nathan try to explain it for him.

"It's grief," Rachel had said when he first told her. "It's just you missing Dean. You think I'm not feeling the same way?"

Nathan had tried a more physical way to ground Sam. It'd been like touching air. His flesh had no substance, his skin had no taste. He didn't even smell like Nathan. Sam had ended up pushing him across the room so hard that he'd hit the wall with an audible thump.

He'd left Sioux Falls after that. He couldn't be in the same house as them. He stopped taking their calls, stopped talking to Bobby. He tried Ruby a couple times, but she never came, so he gave up the idea. He ate tasteless food to survive, he slept as little as he needed. The rest of the time, he hunted. He followed every sighting of the trickster. He hunted demons. Took out a vampire's nest. Looked for Bela. He became a better, more efficient hunter than Dean. Then, he out hunted his father. He could feel himself turning into a machine, become soulless and driven.

He scared himself, but there was nowhere to turn. Not in this world that wasn't real.

Finally, about six months after this nightmare began, he got a call. "Sam. It's Bobby. I found him."

Bobby wanted to meet Sam where it all began. So, Sam found himself back at the mystery spot.

He was already there when Sam got there, kneeling in the center of a summoning circle.

"It's good to see you, boy," Bobby said. He grabbed Sam and hugged him.

Sam didn't hug back. He could barely feel Bobby's arms around him. There was pressure, but it was distant, like something out of a dream.

"What are we doing here, Bobby?" he asked.

"Well, it's the last place we're sure the trickster worked his magic."

"So?"

"So you want this thing? I found a summoning ritual to bring the trickster here."

Summoning ritual. Sounded like something Rachel would come up with. She'd found one for the crossroad demon, so why not one for the trickster? "What do we need?"

"Blood."

Never mind, then. Rachel would never agree to one that used human blood. Maybe animal blood, if she was desperate, but not human. Bobby must have found this on his own.

"How much blood?"

"Ritual says near a gallon. And it's got to be fresh, too."

And, just like that, Sam got it. The whole thing became crystal clear. The trickster had been right: this was never about Dean. Had never been about killing Dean. This was about Sam. All about lines that shouldn't be crossed, that his family didn't want him to cross.

Somehow, the trickster knew Sam had been trying to use his powers. For some reason, didn't like it. Just like he'd shown his displeasure at Rachel trying to summon a crossroad demon, he was showing Sam that he shouldn't use his powers.

And he was using a Bobby to do it.

This wasn't real.

"Meaning we've got to bleed a person dry," Sam said, wondering how far this little charade was going to go.

"And it's got to be tonight. Or not for another fifty years."

Sam took a deep breath. "Then let's go get someone," he said, calling the thing's bluff.

The thing's face turned sorrowful. "You break my heart, kid. I'm not going to let you murder an innocent man."

Sam tightened his jaw and plunged ahead. "Then why did you bring me here?"

"Why? Because it was the only way you'd see me! Because I'm trying to knock some sense into you! Because I thought you'd back down from killing a man!"

The one flaw in "Bobby's" logic was there were no men here. Just constructs and Sam. And Sam had no problem with killing a construct. "Well, you thought wrong. Leave the stuff. I'll do it myself."

"I told you, I'm not going to let you kill a man!"

"It's none of your damn business what I do!"

"Fine, you want your brother back so bad? Here." He pulled out a knife. "Better me than a civilian."

Sam took the knife. His hands shook. He could feel the knife in his hand, heavy and real.

What if he was wrong? What if this was real and Rachel had been right? What if this was just grief?

But the knife was cool to the touch, like it hadn't been held at all. And Bobby didn't smell like alcohol and axle grease like he always did.

So Sam tightened his grip on the knife. Nodded. "Okay."

"Good," the thing said. He turned and got onto his knees in the center of the circle.

Sam took a deep breath. Slipped the knife in his back pocket and pulled a stake out of his jacket. He doubted the thing was actually the trickster, but he didn't care. On the off chance it was, this was his opportunity to kill it. And, if it wasn't, Sam would still kill the thing wearing Bobby's face.

"Do it, son," Bobby said.

"Yeah, okay, Bobby," Sam said, trying to not spit Bobby's name with the scorn he felt. "But I want you to know why." He stepped forward and shoved the stake through the thing's back. "You're not Bobby." He twisted the stake.

The thing fell to the ground and was still.

It didn't change and morph back into the trickster. It stayed Bobby.

Doubt came back. "Bobby." Nothing. It didn't shimmer, it didn't disappear. "Bobby?" The body still refused the morph into the trickster. "Bobby!"

To Sam's immense relief, he body disappeared. The stake rose into the air and shot past Sam's head. He turned.

The trickster stood there, grinning. "You're right. I was just screwing with you. Pretty good, though, Sam. Smart. Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket!"

"It wasn't hard to figure out. Nothing in this world is real."

"What are you talking about? The world is real. This is reality."

"No, it isn't." Sam rubbed his hands together, a habit he'd picked up in the months where the only thing that felt real was the touch of his own skin. "I can't feel anything anymore. Nothing I touch feels right. Nothing I eat tastes right. People are… It's all… it's all fake and I just… let me go. Bring Dean back and let me go."

"Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean is dead. He ain't coming back. His soul is downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak."

Sam shook his head. "You can send me back to that Tuesday—no, Wednesday where this all started. Please. We won't come after you."

The trickster raised his eyebrow. "You swear?"

"Yes."

"I don't know."

"Think about Rachel. About Ashley. They're supposed to have longer with him, time that you stole. Dean never had a Christmas with his daughter. His little girl. Please. Give them their Christmas together."

"Oh, please," the trickster groaned. "Now you're trying to appeal to my better side? I have no better side. Why should I care about Rachel and Ashley?"

"I don't know. Why did you try to stop Rachel from contacting a crossroads demon? Why did you help her in the first place? You've some stake in this, and…"

"Okay, okay. I'll admit it," the trickster said, holding up his hands. "I've got kind of a soft spot for the girls." He shook his head. "But I don't know about bringing back Dean. Even if I could…"

"You can."

"True. But I don't think I should." He twirled the stake in his hand, shaking his head. "Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of yours."

Sam clenched his fists. "You don't think I should try and save my brother."

The trickster threw his hands in the air. "Hallelujah!" he said. "You actually got it. This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. They're already playing it. You think it's a coincidence every demon you meet just happens to mention what you can do with your powers? They're playing you. They are trying to make you go dark side, and it's gonna be the death of you, Sam." He shook his head "Sometimes you just gotta let people go."

"He's my brother."

"Yep. And, like it or not, this is what life will be like without him."

No, thought Sam. Because life will still be real if Dean dies.

"Please," Sam said. "Just… please."

The trickster ran his hands through his hair and threw his hands up. "I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall. Okay, look. This all stopped being fun months ago. I'm over it."

"What does that mean?"

"It means this is done. Finite. You want back to that Wednesday, fine. But just remember: you have a family outside of Dean. A real family. And you left them in the dust when you went on your little spree here."

"Because they weren't real."

"You keep saying that like it'll make it true. But, the fact is, you abandoned them and got nothing. Don't let that demon wearing a pretty girl turn your head away from what's real. From what you have. Like everyone you love has said to you, your powers are not the answer. You are not getting Dean out of his deal, and if you try, you will be doomed to disappointment. So, go home. Have a nice family Christmas. And enjoy the rest of the time you have left with your brother." He snapped his fingers.

 _"_ _Promise me I'll be back in time."_

Sam opened his eyes.

"What," Dean said, sounding grumpy "You going to sleep all day?"


	19. Chapter 19

"And then he snapped his fingers, and it was Wednesday again," Sam said. "And Dean was alive."

"Jesus Christ," Nathan breathed. He rubbed his face. "You were gone six months?"

Sam nodded. He hadn't meant to tell Nathan about what had happened. When he'd woken back up in the motel room, he'd decided to keep it all a secret. No one needed to know the depths he'd sunk to, the things he'd done. He'd tell them bare bones, and that was it.

But when he'd gotten back home, Nathan had kissed him. He'd been warm and real. He'd smelled of mint toothpaste and aftershave and expensive shampoo. His skin had been soft and warm, and his arms were strong as they held Sam.

It'd been everything Sam had been missing for months. He hadn't realize how touch starved he'd been until he'd felt Nathan's hands sliding down his back and coming to rest on his hips.

It'd been like coming home.

It'd been too much. Sam had broken down, the story pouring out of him. He'd told Nathan everything.

"Yeah," he said. He was lying on the bed, his head in Nathan's lap. Nathan stroked his fingers through Sam's hair, breaking through tangles and sending tingles through his scalp. "The worst part was that… nothing seemed real. I'd touch things, and it was like I couldn't feel them. Eat things and not taste them. You and Rachel said it was grief, but it was worse than that. I felt… disconnected. Like I wasn't… wasn't quite in the world anymore."

"Maybe you weren't." Nathan ran his fingertips over Sam's forehead. "Maybe what you were living was a… a construct. Like the trickster pulled you out of reality and had you living in some kind of world he made up. Like a holodeck."

Sam frowned. "Maybe. But the holodeck was designed to be real. And the trickster insisted I was in the real world. So why didn't it feel real?"

"Because you were in shock. Because it wasn't real. Because you've got power in you, and maybe that power interfered with the illusion. Who knows? You'd have to ask the trickster and hope to get a straight answer." Nathan shrugged. "Did he tell you why he did it?"

"Yeah." Sam swallowed. "He said it was to teach me a lesson. That nothing can be done to stop Dean's death, and that I… that I was going too far."

"I agree with him, there." Nathan sighed. He raked his fingers through Sam's hair. "Look, I know you're sneaking around and trying to use your powers."

Sam frowned. "No, I'm not. I haven't tried to use them in months." Then he realized what he said. To him, it'd been months since he'd tried to use his powers; he'd tried a couple times back at the beginning, but hadn't made any progress, so he'd quit. Without Ruby, it'd seemed pointless.

"You mean you didn't sneak out to see Ruby back in Connecticut?" Nathan said

He sat up and turned to Nathan. "Okay, I did that. After what Crowley said, it just made sense. We don't have the Colt, so I'm the only thing that can take Lilith down."

"Except for that handy knife Ruby has. I don't see why you don't just exorcise her and steal the knife."

That… hadn't occurred to Sam. The knife killed demons. She'd already said she wasn't going to give it to him. What was stopping him from taking it by force?

"I don't like her," Nathan said. "She's a demon. Why do you trust her?"

"Because she wants the same thing we want. To save Dean and stop other demons."

"So she says. But, in the meantime, she's trying to get you to use these demon-given powers you have. Which, as we've said a million times, is a bad thing. Sam. She's a demon. Demons lie."

"What does she gain by me using my powers?"

"A commander for the army. An army that she belongs to." Nathan reached out. Ran his hands over Sam's face and then down his neck. "Please. The next time you see her, exorcise her. And stop using trying to use your powers. If you learned anything from what the trickster put you through, please, learn that."

Sam sighed. He thought about the past few months. Being trapped in a never ending hell, without Dean, without his family. He thought about how dirty he felt when he used his powers. How ashamed.

He rested his forehead against Nathan's. "Yeah," he said. "I think you're right."

He slid his hands up Sam's arms to his neck and cupped it gently. "I mean, let's say that your powers aren't bad. Do you really think you'll learn how to use them in time to save Dean? Really. Have you made any progress?"

"I bent a spoon. A little bit."

"You've only got a few months. Get rid of Ruby. Or ignore her next time you see her. She's like an evil Jiminy Cricket. Every time you talk to her, I feel like I lose you, just a little."

Sam kissed Nathan. He licked into his mouth, sucking on his lower lip. "You're not going to lose me," he whispered. "I won't let that happen."

"Promise me. Promise me that if Dean dies, you're not going to disappear on me."

"I promise." He kissed Nathan again, pushing him down onto the bed. "I won't disappear if Dean dies." But, deep inside, he was afraid it was a promise he wouldn't be able to keep.

* * *

"We need a Christmas tree," Dean said. "A real one. A big one, not some stupid Charley Brown twig."

Rachel smiled and wrote Christmas tree on her list. "We'll also need ornaments, then. God, this is weird. We always had this stuff growing up. It was in a box in the attic. Dad would go up the day after Thanksgiving, bring down the box, and we'd start decorating. Well. The maids mostly decorated the house, but we did the tree."

"Your life was weird. Who has maids decorating their houses?"

She shrugged. "Maids decorated the house all the time. I mean, my mom directed it and made all the decisions, but the actual work was done by the maids." She laughed self-consciously. "My parents tried to keep us grounded, but we were still rich. It was a huge house, and Mom wanted it to look nice. We had a big party every year and all these people would come. We needed to look good for them." She scribbled a little on the pad of paper. "You know… our ornaments growing up were always so… boring. Shiny balls and icicles and white lights. Nathan and I had a little tree in our playroom where we put all the handmade ornaments and teddy bears and stuff on it, but you've know what I've always wanted?"

"What?"

"Star Wars ornaments."

He grinned. "Hell, yeah, put those on the list."

Rachel smiled happily back and wrote it down. "Okay, what else…"

"Morning!" Sam interrupted, coming in. He and Nathan were holding hands and Sam was…

Well, that haunted, hollow eyed expression he'd been going around with since the mystery spot was gone. He looked well rested and happy.

Nathan must be a freaking tiger in the sack.

"Morning," Dean replied. "You look better."

"I feel better. Nathan had an idea last night that I think is going to work."

Dean leaned back in his chair. "Okay. Why don't you share with the rest of the class?

"We take Ruby's knife and use that to kill Lilith."

Huh. "That's brilliant. You think she'd give it to us?"

Nathan snorted. "Ruby has one goal, and that's to make Sam use his powers. If she really wanted to help us kill Lilith and save you, Dean, she would have given us that knife right away. No." He shook his head. "We're going to trap the bitch and take it from her."

That was more like it. Ruby had been a thorn in Dean's side since she'd shown up. He'd wanted to get rid of her a hundred times over, but, as Sam pointed out, she'd been mildly helpful. She had told them how to fix the Colt, for example.

Dean still didn't liked her. "Then we're going to exorcise her, right?"

Sam shook his head. "Not until Lilith is dead. We can't be sure she doesn't have more information."

"And we can't be sure she's not working with Lilith," Rachel said. "If she gets exorcised, there's a chance Lilith will find out and come after us sooner."

"She's not working with Lilith," Sam said. "She said…"

"She's a demon!" Rachel fairly shouted. But she did it in the quiet way she'd adopted so as not to upset Ashley, which made it kind of terrifying. "She's a demon, and demons lie. She says she doesn't want Lilith to be in charge. She says she's on our side, but the only thing we know for sure is she's been trying to get you to use your powers from day one. She's encouraged you, coaxed you, even convinced you. Be honest, Sam. If the trickster hadn't stuck you in _Groundhog Day_ , you'd've been with her last night trying."

Sam ducked his head. "That doesn't mean she's working with Lilith."

"We can't trust anyone. Not any demon. Not even Crowley. The only thing I believe is that Lilith holds Dean's contract. That's it. I can't even be sure he'll release Dean, but we need to try anyway." She looked at Dean. "But I agree we should keep Ruby around. We can use her for information."

"How we going to do that?"

"Trap her. We'll do it at Bobby's. Sam will summon her and then you'll steal the knife and trap her in a devil's trap. We'll leave her there, just in case, and then, when Lilith is dead, we'll get rid of Ruby."

"We can use her own knife on her," Dean said with a smile.

"Are you sure the person she's possessing is dead?" Rachel asked. She shook her head. "We'll exorcise her."

"Okay." He tried not to sound too disappointed. He got Rachel's point, he did, and he really didn't want to kill an innocent person. Still. It would just be so much more satisfying to stab that bitch through the throat than chant a bunch of words at her. "When do we get started?"

Rachel sighed and looked down at the list of Christmas preparations. "Can we… now that we have a plan, can we wait? I mean, I know we're getting close, but…" She looked up at Dean, her eyes big and shiny. "This might not work. And if Lilith gets wind we're coming, she can send the hellhounds after you. And the only way we'll know is if you start hallucinating."

"What?" This was the first anyone had said anything about hallucinating to him.

"When the hellhounds are released and on your tail, you start hallucinating. It means your end is near. It's how we'll know she's on to us. Until then…"

Dean nodded. "Okay. Okay, so we wait until after Christmas. We all agreed?"

Sam looked at Nathan, who was already shrugging and nodding his head. "It's your contract."

"And I've got time. I want to have a Christmas with my family. Never really had that before." He smiled at Sam. "Want to help me hang some Christmas light on the house?"

"Really?" Sam sounded dubious, and some of the light he'd come downstairs with had dimmed.

"Sam," Dean said, voice soft. "Just give me this, all right? Give me the next few weeks to pretend I'm a normal person. A father about to celebrate his first Christmas with his daughter. Then we'll get back to the doom and gloom. Please."

Sam held his gaze a moment before nodding. "All right, Dean. But do you even know how to hang Christmas lights?"

"Not a clue, Sammy. Not one clue."

* * *

"This is the most awesome tree I've ever seen," Dean said softly. He and Rachel were curled on the couch together, the room only illuminated by the lights on the tree.

From every branch, an ornament dangled. Luke and Han Solo. Leia in her gold bikini and her white dress and her Endor combat outfit. Little TIE fighters and X-wings swooped down, attacking tinsel and round glass balls.

It was so cool.

"Did you ever have this growing up?" Rachel asked, head on Dean's shoulder.

"Before Mom died, yeah. After…" He shook his head. "Dad tried a few times, but it wasn't the same. A lame little tree and Boston Market for dinner. And that's when he was around." He smiled sadly. "This one year, Sam was asking questions about why we moved around so much. When he was little, we didn't tell him about monsters, but he read Dad's journal and started figuring it out. And Dad was on a hunt. He'd left us alone in the motel over Christmas and I just… I wanted to give Sam something to remember. Something happy. Something not monsters are real and dad leaves us to hunt them, you know? So I stole a tree and some presents, told him Dad had come and left it."

"Did he believe you?"

Dean laughed. "For about a minute, until he unwrapped the presents and it was a Barbie." He sighed and tightened his grip on her. "Sam's not that fond of Christmas, actually. I'm surprised he helped me with the lights."

"Things are different now. You guys have a family." She sat up, looking horrified. "I mean, not that you didn't have family, but…"

"There's a baby now," he finished for her. "That changes things."

She looked relieved. "That's what I meant." She settled back against him.

He stroked her arm. It was so comfortable, lying here, presents underneath the tree, safe and warm inside. It was what he'd always secretly wanted growing up. Not the Hallmark Christmas crap, exactly, but a sense of permanence and peace. Something to come home to.

He didn't want to ruin the mood, but he couldn't help but say, "Look, I know you don't want to talk about this…"

"Dean…"

"No, I've got to say it. And I need to say it now." He took a deep breath, his stomach tying itself in knots. "I might not make it."

"Dean, don't…"

"I might not make it," he pushed on, feeling sick. He focused on the ornament of Han in carbonite hanging on the bottom of the tree. "We've got a plan, but it might not work. And I need to know that you're going to be okay."

She pulled away and sat up, tucking her legs underneath her. "Of course I won't be okay. You'll be dead."

He turned to her. "But you have Ashley to think about. Ashley to take care of. Look, I know that you don't think you like her…"

"I like her, Dean." Rachel put her hand on Dean's knee and squeezed. "I love her. I do. I know we had a rocky start, and I said a lot of things, but…" She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know when she became so important to me, but she has. I love her, and I don't want anything to happen to her."

He took her hands in his. "I don't want her growing up the way I did. Moving from motel to motel, never knowing how long she's going to be staying in one place."

She shook her head. "I won't do that. Believe me, I won't. I'll… I mean, I probably won't give up hunting, but I'll stay here. Help other hunters, do research. But Ashley will have a home. She'll have stability."

He smoothed away a tear that was sliding down her cheek. "It's more than that, Rach. My whole life, my dad was this… this distant figure. Untouchable. Stoic and strong, but he wasn't… he wasn't there for Sam and me. Not like we needed him." He squeezed Rachel's hands. "I don't want that for my baby girl. I don't want her growing up with a parent eaten away by grief. She deserves to have her mom be there for her."

More tears slid from her eyes. "Dean…"

"I know it's going to be hard at first. But you can't let my death consume your whole life. You have to promise me that you're going to move on." He wiped the tears away. "Live your life for her."

She shook her head.

"Rachel…"

"No, I will. I promise, I won't… I won't be like John. I won't be an absent mother. I'll be there for Ashley. And I'll give her the best life I can. I just…" She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. "I don't want to lose you."

He buried his face in her hair and tightened his arms around her. They stayed like that, wrapped up together, as midnight came ushering in Christmas, and bringing Dean another day closer to his fate.


	20. Chapter 20

Jo and Ellen arrived two days after Christmas with an arsenal for the demons and a trunk full of gifts for the baby. Ever since the Roadhouse burned down, they'd been traveling the country, hunting, but when Rachel had called, they'd agreed come right away. Now, Jo was camped out in the kitchen, catching up with Nathan and Sam, while Ellen unloaded bags in the living room.

"You can never have too many onesies," Ellen said, pulling out a stack, "so I got you near twenty. She eating food yet?"

Dean nodded. He went to the coffee table and got the camera. "We gave her mashed banana last night. She loved it." He flipped through to the right pictures, then handed the camera to Ellen. "Don't know how it ended up in her hair, though."

Rachel looked up from the onesies she was unpacking. "She started to feed herself. Reached into the bowl and tried to stuff her fist into her mouth. Once it was on her hand, it was basically going to end up everywhere."

"You just doing fruit?"

"No, we've been doing cereal about a month. Just go back farther for the pictures. She loves food, loves touching it and squishing it between her hands. And sometimes, she likes eating it."

"She's constantly a mess," Dean added. "So thanks for the onesies."

Ellen smiled and then reached into the bag again, digging around. "I also got you a fancy dress for her because I want you all to do a family picture."

"Dean and I got her picture taken when she was a month. And we just did Christmas pictures. She was so cute, wearing this little Sana dress and a little headband with a red floof on it."

"Was it everyone, or just you three in the pictures?"

"The one month was the three of us. Christmas pictures were just her."

Ellen nodded and said, "You need one with all of you. Nathan, Sam and Bobby, I mean."

Dean exchanged looks with Rachel. She nodded, then gestured to Ellen. "You're in it, too, then. Both you and Jo."

Ellen's face softened. "I don't want…"

"You're family," Dean said firmly. He pulled a board book from the pile of stuff. "She's just going to chew on this."

"It's designed for that. Those things can survive baby teeth, drool, spit-up, just near about anything. And it's a good daddy-daughter time when you read to her."

"I read with her now."

"Auto Mechanic Weekly just isn't the same, Dean," Rachel said. She held up a little shirt. "Ellen, did you get this shirt silkscreened with an anti-possession symbol?"

"That was my idea," Jo called from the kitchen.

"I love it. Thanks!"

Dean picked Ashley up out of the playpen, settled with her against the couch, and started reading _The Runaway Bunny_ to her.

Ellen moved closer, handing Rachel the fancy blue baby dress she'd pulled out of the bag. "How are you doing?"

Rachel took the dress and sighed. "Terrified. Mostly, that's it. I'm not confident in this plan. Killing Lilith is a long shot. And, even if we do, we have to hope that Crowley follows through. And I've found nothing about how to kill a demon besides the knife."

Ellen pushed hair from her face and sat back on her heels. "I heard a legend once. Man claimed he'd found out the identity of a demon back when it was human. Before it died, I mean. Said that you find the bones of a human that tuned demon and burn them, the demon dies."

Rachel took a slow, deep breath turning that over in her mind. "Lilith's been around since the beginning. I doubt she even died. She just morphed into a demon. And, even if she had, she's too old to find where she's been buried. That's an archeological expedition."

"What about Crowley?"

"I don't think we have enough time. But it's worth thinking about. Bobby can look. Maybe a psychic… maybe Missouri might be some help." She sighed again and shook her head. "I just think it's too late to go looking for bones based on an old legend."

Ellen put her hands over Rachel's. "You sure you want to do this now? Dean still has six months. If this fails, you've lost time you were guaranteed with him."

"I can't wait until the last minute."

She shook her head. "I'm not saying let the time run out. Only that you should stop and enjoy some of the time you have. Let Ashley play in the snow. Let Dean see her get her first tooth. Maybe you and Dean go out on a date night or two. You've got a plan: now rest a little bit. Just in case…"

Rachel sighed and looked at her hands. "The only thing is Ruby. She'll wonder why Sam's not using his powers."

"Well. We can do one of two things. He can tell the truth about getting stuck in that time loop, or he can pretend to keep trying."

"Both ways sound dangerous. With the first, Ruby can convince Sam that the trickster shouldn't be listened to."

"You gotta trust Sam not to let that happen."

Rachel made a face, but just nodded. She knew she had to trust Sam, and she did. Really, she did.

But he'd snuck out on them before. He'd agreed to stop using his powers before, and then tried it anyway. Yes, the trickster seemed to have knocked some sense into him, but how long would it last. How long until Sam was desperate again?

But now they had a plan. They hadn't before. Maybe that would be enough to keep Sam grounded.

"He could pretend to try, but I'm afraid he might accidentally start to develop powers. Not purposefully, but even paying attention to them might make them awaken."

"That's a risk, but, again, you need to trust Sam. There's always going to be a chance his powers act up. They're a part of him, and unless you figure out how to get rid of them, they'll always be there."

"That's true."

"Maybe working with Ruby, he can figure out how best not to use them. She'll still be convinced he's trying to use them, and it'll buy you some time."

Pain was building behind her eyes. She pressed her fingers against them and rubbed. "I want it to be over."

Ellen frowned. "Rachel…"

"I want it over with Dean safe," she clarified. "I'm not sleeping well. I mean, yeah, baby, but even when I'm able to sleep, I'm always worried. All I can think about is what'll happen if we fail."

Ellen put her arm around Rachel's neck and pulled her close. "I'm sorry, little girl. I wish I could make this go away."

"I know." She took a deep breath. "You're right. We should take some time. Just a little bit, but some time. So, if everyone agrees, we'll wait. Just a little. A month or two. But not down to the deadline." She looked across the room at Dean, who was smiling down at Ashley as he read the book. Ashely gazed back up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, as if drinking every word Dean said.

Sniffing back her tears, she picked the camera from the floor and snapped a picture. They'd wait a month. They'd build memories. And then, next Christmas, with any luck, they'd go through their photographs and remember this crappy year with relief that it was over.

* * *

"This is a bad idea," Sam said. His palms were damp, and his stomach was twisted into knots. His heart beat in odd jerks and starts and he felt like he couldn't quite catch his breath.

Nathan ran his hands down Sam's arms, soothing him. Grounding him. "If you really don't want to do it, don't," he said. He took Sam's hands and rubbed his thumbs over Sam's palms in strong circles. "But we need Ruby distracted. She can't know what we plan to do."

He nodded, knowing the reason, even agreeing, but he couldn't shake his doubts. "What if I accidentally use my powers?"

"I've been thinking about that." Nathan threaded their fingers together. "Right now, you've been having problems because you can't control them. They're there, under the surface, and you've sparked them a few times, but you're really at their mercy. We don't want you using them, but it might not be so bad if you learned how to control them. So, let's say you accidentally use them. You can use that feeling to figure out how not to use them."

"I don't know…"

"Whatever Ruby tells you, just remember what we practiced. Deep, slow breaths. Calm you mind and count. What she wants is all outward—exorcising , moving things with your powers—so you go all inward. In and calm and focused."

He nodded and squeezed Nathan's hands. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. I should do this. Now."

"You going to Bobby's?"

"She can't get on this property, but she can Bobby's. I'll meet her in his garage." He leaned forward and kissed Nathan. "See you later?"

"I'll be waiting."

He took Rachel's car, with her permission for once. The drive to Bobby's took less than ten minutes. Bobby waved at him from the front window as Sam got out of the car, but didn't come out.

Sam went to the garage. His palms were still sweating, but he pushed it aside and dialed Ruby's number.

He'd hardly finished dialing when Ruby appeared before him. "It's taken you long enough."

He hated how she could just appear like that. Made him nervous. "I've been busy," he told her, eyeing her warily.

"Decorating Christmas trees and hanging lights on the house is not what I'd call busy, Sam," Ruby said scornfully. "It's almost like you don't care about saving your brother."

"That's not true. But everyone is against me doing this, so it's hard to find time to get away. We've got guests at the house now. Do you know how hard it was to sneak out past Ellen? She's used to watching out for her daughter."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Your life is so lame. So. Here." She pulled a small rubber ball from her jack pocket. "Last time, you bent a spoon. So, this time, you're going to make this float."

Sam tightened his jaw. "How is making a ball float supposed to help Dean?"

"It's going to get you control over you powers. Connected into them. If I brought a demon to you, there's no way you'd be ready to exorcise it. You're like a baby. First you need to learn to crawl. Then, later, you can walk."

He exhaled. Took a deep breath and concentrated.

He meant to do what Nathan said. He really did. He turned his attention inward. Focused on calm. On smooth and flat and buried.

But a part of him was curious. He couldn't help it. What if….

So, he reached out and poked.

The ball went racing from Ruby's hand and hit the ceiling before slamming to the floor.

Ruby smiled and picked the ball up. "Good. Again."

* * *

"How did you do?" Nathan asked as Sam crawled into bed. He rolled over and slung his arm over Sam's middle.

Sam sighed. He felt like a failure. "Well, I don't think we should have sex tonight."

He was silent a beat before saying, "You used your powers?"

"Trying to relax and flatten them made things worse." He rested his head on Nathan's shoulder. "Or, actually, made things easier. All that breathing and counting somehow made it easier to use my powers. She brought a ball for me to levitate, and, I'll admit, the first time I made it move, I tried. I couldn't help it. I was curious. But, after that, I stopped. I pulled away and tried to bury my powers. But by the end of the night, the ball floated out of Ruby's hand whether I wanted it to or not."

Nathan touched Sam's face. "It's okay."

"No. I feel dirty." He need a shower. A shower for his soul.

"It's okay. We said you might need to learn how to use your powers in order to suppress them. Next time…"

"I can't do this again! It's supposed to be easier to bury them, but it's easier to use them. I can't…" He grabbed Nathan's hand and held it tight against his face. "Next time I call Ruby, I'm taking the knife. I can't risk playing with these powers, not even trying to suppress them. Something's changed, and they're easier to touch than they used to be."

"Maybe because Azazel's dead. You're in charge, so it's easier."

Sam sighed. "Maybe." He kissed Nathan's hand. "It seems like, no matter what I do, these powers want to be used."

"You have to resist it, Sam," Nathan said, alarm coloring his voice. "Remember the others. Remember the trickster. Remember what these powers are for. You can't risk it."

"I know." He squeezed Nathan's hand and sighed. "I'm just… I guess I'm just afraid that no matter how much I resist them, it's not going to matter. I'll just turn evil anyway."

Nathan climbed on top of Sam and took his face between his hands. "Sam, you're not evil. You are not going to turn evil. Your heart is too good." He leaned down and kissed Sam. "I couldn't love an evil person the way I love you."

Fireworks went off inside Sam. They'd never said that before. He came close a few months ago, but they'd never actually said the words.

No one had told Sam they'd loved him since Jess had died. And Sam hadn't loved anyone since then. Her death had left him broken and fragile. When he'd started with Nathan, it had just been something uncomplicated and fun. But they'd been together now for over a year.

It was too frightening to even contemplate saying the words back. Not now, not when everything was so complicated. But he couldn't say he didn't feel it.

Sam wrapped his arms around Nathan. He pulled Nathan down and kissed him desperately, rolling him over onto the bed. "Nate," he whispered. "Don't let me turn into someone you can't love. Don't let me cross that line."

"I won't." He stroked down Sam's back, then ran his knuckles down his cheek. "No matter what you do, I will fight for you. Just… make sure you're fighting too."

"I will," Sam said. "I promise."


	21. Chapter 21

The month passed quietly. Except for his impending death hanging over them, it was probably one of the best months Dean had ever had. With a lot of screaming and sleepless nights, Ashley got her first tooth. They got a family portrait taken, all of them, even though Bobby grumbled and complained the whole time. Ashley had tasted her first snowflake and "helped" Dean build her first snowman. She started to crawl. With a house full of people to watch the baby, Dean and Rachel had gotten an evening off to have dinner and go to a hotel to spend the night. They'd spent most of the night worrying about Ashley, but still managed to have a good time.

It'd been a great month.

And now, they were gathered around a map at Bobby's. He had what he swore up and down was a tracking device over a map, but to Dean it looked like some kind of old timey thing you'd find on a ship. It had three legs coming out of a crystal ball surrounded by a metal pieces on top. A swinging pendulum hung down over the map.

Dean's heart pounded in his chest. They were finally doing this. They were either going to get him out of the deal… or sign his death warrant.

He wished he had Ashley to hold on to, but she was back home with Jo and Nathan. The plan was for Ellen to guard Ruby at Bobby's after the summoned her, while Jo stayed at the house with Nathan and Ashley. Rachel wanted to come with Sam, Dean, and Bobby to face Lilith and, even though he knew it was probably better for her to stay behind, Dean hadn't argued. He wanted his wife at his side while he faced this down.

"Okay," Bobby said. "Let's do this thing." He twisted something on the tracking device. Said a few words in Latin.

The pendulum began swinging. It swooped in a few big circles before tightening. A moment later, it went stiff over a place on the map.

"New Harmony, Indiana," Bobby said. "We have a winner."

Sam exhaled hard. "Okay. So, all we need is the knife. And that's up to me and Dean." He looked at Rachel, Ellen, and Bobby. "You stay in the house. I'll summon her in the garage. It's where we've been working."

"Be careful, boy," Bobby said.

"I will." He gave a faint smile, then disappeared.

Dean's phone rang. He frowned and pulled it out. "Hello?"

"Is this Dean?" a little girl asked. Her voice was bright and bubbly. It overflowed with joy. "Dean Winchester?"

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"It's me. Lilith."

His stomach did a nosedive. "Lilith?"

She giggled. "I hear you're after me. That you're looking for me. Well, the race is on now, Dean. I just released the hounds. You have until midnight to find me."

"What?"

She laughed again, lovely peals of laughter that rang out over the line. "Good luck!" The line went dead.

"Who was that?" Rachel asked.

"It was Lilith. She's released the hellhounds. Said I have until midnight."

Rachel looked at the tracking device. "Tracking her must have tipped her off. Crap." She took a deep breath. "It's okay. It's okay, we can still get her. The hounds won't touch you until midnight, we'll just get her before then." She went to Dean and hugged him tightly. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah," Dean said hollowly. "Just fine."

* * *

With his heart pounding in his chest, Sam called Ruby. Once again, she appeared as soon as the phone rang.

"You're calling me early today," she said, smiling. "You must be eager to get working."

He shook his head. "I'm done trying to use my powers," he said. "We're going after Lilith. Today. Right now."

Ruby's mouth fell open in disbelief. "Are you crazy? You're not ready. You can float a ball and juggle some weapons around. We haven't even started trying to exorcise a demon yet." She threw her hands into the air. "This is why I never told you about Lilith. If I could, I'd kill Crowley for telling you. You are nowhere near ready to face Lilith, and yet you two yahoos are ready to run in half-cocked. She is going to peel the meat off your pretty, pretty faces."

"It doesn't matter if I'm not ready. We're going in now. I want your knife."

She laughed in disbelief. "What? You wanna charge in with one little pigsticker? Forget it."

"I don't think you understand. Time's running down on Dean…"

"You still have months. Months of learning to use your powers. If you just…"

"Too late now," Dean said, coming into the garage. "Lilith just called. Said she's released the hellhounds, and they're on my trail."

"You stupid fucks," Ruby swore. "What the hell did you do?"

"We did a tracking spell to see where she is. Must have tipped her off somehow."

"Please, Ruby." Sam turned back to Ruby, heart racing. "We need that knife. We don't have time for me to mess around with my powers."

"No."

"God damnit, Ruby, just give us the knife. Give it to us and we let you walk out of her peacefully," Dean said.

She turned. "Your brother is carrying a bomb inside of him. We'd be stupid not to use it. Maybe if we get him under enough pressure, he'll go off."

"I'm not letting you turn my brother into your leader. You can yap and yap about how you're on our side, and how all you want is to help him save me, but now we're down to the zero hour and your true colors are showing. You really wanted to help up, you'd give us that knife. Instead, you're blathering on and on about Sam and his stupid powers. That's what you're after and that's all this has ever been about: Sam. Well, it's not going to happen."

Ruby smirked. "Poor Dean. It's already begun. And there's no stopping it."

Dean lunged at Ruby. Caught her face with a right hook. She stumbled back then came at him with a punch of her own.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, not sure if this was a good idea. "Ruby, stop!"

They didn't listen. Somehow, they were tangled up in each other, punching and wrestling. Finally, Dean shoved Ruby away. She stumbled back a few steps and hit the wall. Then she jumped forward

And was immediately stopped by an invisible force. "What the hell!" she shouted.

Dean grinned. "Missing something?" he asked, pulling the knife from his jacket. He waved it tauntingly.

"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch." She moved toward him and was stopped again by the invisible wall. "Damnit!" She looked above her and saw the devil's trap Dean had painted on the ceiling the day before.

"Sorry, Ruby," Sam said not feeling sorry at all. "But we didn't think you'd give the knife to us. And we needed a way to get it." He shrugged. "I'm tired to being manipulated. I'm tired of every demon I meet telling me to use these powers. All the time I've spent with you? I've been trying to suppress them. To learn how not to use them."

"And yet, every time, you got better and better at them," Ruby said with a smile. "There's no stopping it, Sam. There's a hole in the dike, and the water is going to burst through soon."

"Come on, Sam." Dean grabbed his coat and tugged. "We're on a time table. Let's hit the road."

"Let me go. I can help you," Ruby said.

"Don't think so. Ellen?"

Ellen came into the garage. She was carrying a shotgun, which she already had trained on Ruby. "I've got a flask full of holy water and a gun with rock salt," she said, settling against the wall. "Don't try anything."

Ruby sneered and rolled her eyes. "You're going to wish you let me go," she said as Dean and Sam left.

"No," Sam called back. "I don't think I will."

* * *

The hallucinations started about halfway through the drive. One minute, they were being pulled over for a busted tail light, then next, Dean was stabbing the cop through the neck with Ruby's knife.

"Dean!" Rachel shrieked.

But, instead of blood, the man lit up with an eerie orange light. Smoke burst from his mouth and ears and lightning crackled.

Rachel and Sam jumped out the car and came around to Dean.

"How did you know it was a demon?" Rachel asked, hands trembling. She felt sorry for the man the demon had been riding, but there was nothing to do. He was gone, and the demon was gone.

Looking grim, Dean answered, "I could see its face. Its real face under that one."

"So, what?" Sam said. "Now you can see demons?"

Dean shrugged. "I've been seeing stuff since Lilith called, but nothing like this."

Rachel put her hand on Dean's back. She could feel how tight his muscles were, how tense he was. "That's what I was talking about. When hellhounds are on your tail, you start hallucinating. But I didn't realize you'd see demons."

"Well, he's getting close," Bobby said, coming up from his car to join them.

"Getting close?"

"You're piercing the veil. You're glimpsing the B-side."

Dean looked annoyed. "Something a little less new-agey please."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "You're almost hells bitch. So, you can see hell's other bitches."

"Thank you," he said, nodding.

"Well, that could actually come in handy," Sam said.

"Oh, well, I'm glad my doomed soul so good for something."

Rachel slipped her hand into Dean's and squeezed it. "It sucks, but it's good," she said. "Lilith's got to have demons all over town. This way, we can kill them before they sound the alarm. She knows we're coming, but we might still be able to sneak up on her."

Dean lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "Great. Maybe we can sneak up on someone who knows we're coming thanks to my handy new demon vision. This sounds like a fantastic plan. Nothing can thwart this." He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Can we get going?"

Rachel nodded, but stepped close to him and hugged him. Pressed her face into his chest and let his warmth seep through her clothes. "We'll be fine," she promised. "We're going to win."

Dean squeezed her and said nothing.

* * *

Before they had left Bobby's, they'd done a more localized tracking spell and found the street Lilith was on. From there, it was easy to find the house. Dean had seen her right away, possessing a little girl. They watched through the window as the family celebrated her birthday, both parents looking terrified and sick as they did. Only the girl's joy seemed genuine.

"Jesus," Dean whispered. "Her face is horrifying."

"That poor family." Rachel rubbed her eyes, imagining how they felt. How she would feel if a monster took over Ashley. That terror of seeing her daughter and knowing that it wasn't really her. "They must be going through hell."

"Yeah." Dean took her hand and squeezed. The look on his face told her that he was thinking the same thing she was.

Sam pulled a branch away so he could see better. "What are we waiting for? Let's go."

"Not so fast. See that industrious mailman over there?" Dean said, nodding to the man sorting mail down the street. "That's a demon. As is Mr. Rogers sitting out in front of that house. And if I can see two, there's gotta be a whole bunch more."

"What's the plan?" Rachel asked. She eyed the mailman warily, hoping he didn't see them.

"Bobby. You think you can find the water line and bless it? We run the house, any demon following will either be given a holy water shower or be kept off the property," Dean said.

Bobby nodded. "Anyone got a rosary?"

Rachel pulled hers out of her pocket and handed it over. "Go quickly."

"Fast as I can." He rose and jogged off.

"Okay. Rachel, you armed?" Dean asked.

"With rock salt. I wish we had the Colt."

"If wishes were horses, sweetheart. Okay, Sam. Let's get mailman first. I'll sneak over and get his attention. Once he comes after me, you come up behind and gank him. Rachel, stay with Sam."

They nodded. "Be careful," Rachel said.

Dean leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You too. Okay, let's go."

They watched as Dean ran up to the house. The mailman saw him, dropped his letters and ran. The moment he did, Sam and Rachel went after him. Sam grabbed him from behind and stabbed him through the back.

With a show of orange light, the demon lit up. Smoke escaped his mouth and ears and the body went limp.

"Rest in peace," Rachel said for the poor soul who'd gone down with the ship. But there was no getting around that. This was war, and innocent people were going to die. She had to remember that.

"Let's go," Dean started, when out of nowhere, Ruby popped up. She grabbed Dean and pushed him up against the fence.

"I'd like my knife back, please. Or your neck snaps like a chicken."

Rachel drew her gun, but Sam was already at Ruby, knife against her throat. "He doesn't have it. Take it easy."

"How did you get out?" Rachel demanded, taking aim. "Is Ellen okay?"

"She's fine. Last I saw her, she was taking a nap." She smirked. "It was a bit enforced, but, except for the headache, she'll be fine."

She cocked her gun. "How did you get out?"

"What you don't know about me could fill a book."

"Sam. Kill her," Rachel said.

"Give me the knife, Sam."

Sam looked torn. "Look, you'll get it back when this is over."

"This is already over," Ruby said. "I gave you a way to save Dean. You shot me down. Now it's too late. He's dead. And I'm not going to let you die, too."

"How sweet," Rachel sneered.

Ruby shot her a look. "I was willing to get you out of this, too, but continue to piss me off…"

"Guys!" Dean suddenly said. "Have your little catfight later. Run." He reached out and grabbed Rachel's wrist. Tugged.

She got the impression of demons standing in every doorway. As they started running, the demons gave chase.

Rachel and the boys sprinted across the lawn and made it to the front door. Sam started picking the lock, but Rachel could see his hands shaking.

"What's taking Bobby?" Dean shouted.

The sprinklers suddenly burst to life. The demons who were crossing the lawn screamed, falling to their knees.

The door clicked. "Got it!" Sam pushed the door open, and they tumbled inside.

There was a body stretched on the floor. Flies sat on its face. It had clearly been dead for some time.

Rachel tried not to gag at the smell.

"Think Lilith knows we're here?" Dean asked.

"Probably." Ruby shot Dean a look and stepped over the body, going further into the house.

Rachel was about to follow, when she heard a creak behind her. She whirled, gun up, ready to fire.

A man was peeking out of a closet. She drew a deep breath and took aim.

"Rachel!" Dean hissed. He put his hand on her arm and shook his head. "That's not a demon." He turned to the man, arm out, placating. "Sir, we're here to help. Don't… don't yell, don't make a sound."

The man nodded. He was pale and had dark shadows under his haunted eyes. He looked like a man who'd seen too much.

"Where's your daughter?" Dean asked.

The man shook his head. "It's not… it's not her anymore."

Sam clutched the knife tighter. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs. In her bedroom."

Dean glanced at the stairs, then back at the man. "Okay, listen to me. I want you to go downstairs into the basement. Put a line of salt at the door behind you. Do you understand me?"

The man squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "Not without my wife."

Dean looked at Rachel. Hesitated a moment, then said, "Without your wife."

"No."

Dean sighed. Walked over to the man and then punched him.

"Dean!" Rachel exclaimed in a hushed voice as the man dropped to the floor.

"There wasn't any time to argue. Sam, you go upstairs and see about Lilith. Kill her if you see her. Don't give her time."

"On it." He readjusted his grip on the knife, then started up the stairs. Ruby trailed him.

"Rach, help me with him."

She holstered her gun and went to grab the man's feet. As they maneuvered him across the room, she asked, "Would you be able to do it? Save yourself without me?"

"Hell no. Rach, I respect the hell out of this man. He's been tortured by Lilith for God knows how long, and he's still thinking of his family." They took the man to the basement stairs and carried him down. "But we can't have anyone to distract us. Especially if we do have to kill a little girl."

They set the body down. Rachel stepped into Dean and put her hand on his shoulder. "She's probably dead. Or hurting. We don't know…"

"I get it," Dean said, cutting her off. He took a breath and closed his eyes. "I'm just glad Ashley was too young. If she'd been old enough…"

"Don't think about it." She placed a kiss on Dean's cheek, then stepped back. "Let's go."

They lined the door with salt and jogged upstairs. They quickly found the bedroom. Sam stood over the bed, holding the knife. The mother and a little girl lay on the bed. The girl was asleep, and the mother was crying.

"Do it," Rachel heard her whisper.

Sam lifted the knife stealing himself.

"Crap," Dean swore suddenly.

The girl woke up and started screaming.

Sam started to bring the knife down, but Dean grabbed him. "It's not her! It's not in her anymore."

The mother grabbed her daughter and immediately started soothing her. Sam fell back, looking shell shocked. "Where'd she go?" he asked.

Dean shook his head. "I don't know. Come on, we need to get them to safety. We'll put them into the basement and regroup."

"Ma'am," Rachel said. Her hands were shaking with the near miss, but she managed to keep her voice steady and sure. "Did you hear that? You and your daughter still aren't safe. There are demons surrounding the house, and the only safe place is the basement."

"Is my daughter going to be okay?" she asked, holding the sobbing child.

Rachel nodded. "She should be. We've set up the basement as a sort of safe room. Let's go down there."

The woman got off the bed and followed Rachel down the stairs. "What's going on? Why is this happening?"

"It's sort of hard to explain. When it's over…"

"Don't come out, no matter what you hear," Dean interrupted. "You, your daughter, and your husband stay safe in the basement." He opened the door to the basement and gestured.

"Thank you," the woman whispered.

Dean smiled wanly. "Don't thank me just yet." He closed the door and started spreading the salt line back down.

* * *

"Well, I hate to say I told you so," Ruby said.

Sam turned to Ruby. He felt sick. Those awful few moments where he'd thought he was going to have to kill that little girl… He couldn't shake them off. His stomach was still twisting and his skin felt cold and clammy.

"All right, Ruby, where is she?" he asked. If he had his way, he'd throw the knife away right now. Just to forget what he'd just almost done.

But they weren't done yet

"I don't know," Ruby told him.

"Could she get past the sprinklers?"

"Her pay grade, she ain't sweating holy water."

Dean came turned back to the room, dusting his hand. "Okay. I think they're safe. We just need…" He stopped talking, staring at Ruby.

"Dean?" Rachel said.

Dean didn't answer.

"Dean?"

"That's not Ruby," he said, voice hoarse.

Sam turned, but he was immediately thrown back against the wall. The knife fell from his hand, clattering to the ground. He heard Rachel shriek, then her body hitting something solid. Dean followed a moment later.

"How long have you been her?" Dean demanded.

"Not long. But I like it. It's all grown up and pretty." Her eyes flashed white.

"And where's Ruby?" asked Sam.

"Oh, she was a very bad girl, so I sent her far, far away." She began slinking toward Sam.

"I should have seen it before," Dean said. "But you all look alike to me."

Lilith rolled her eyes, then her focus went laser on Sam. "Hello, Sam. I've wanted to meet you for a very long time." She came close and took his chin with her hand. Holding him tight against the wall, she kissed him.

He winced as her lips sizzled on his. He tried to pull back, but there was nowhere to go.

"Your lips are soft," she purred.

He licked his bottom lip, tasting sulfur. "Right. So you have me. Let my brother go."

"That was never on the table. You want out of the deal, you have to have something I want. You have nothing that I want."

"So this is your big plan, huh?" Dean asked. "Drag me to hell. Kill Sam. Then, what? Become queen bitch?"

"I don't have to answer to puppy chow," she hissed. She snapped her fingers.

Dean suddenly went stiff with terror.

"What is it?" Sam craned his neck, trying to see what Dean was seeing.

"Hellhound," Dean said. "Right there." He sounded breathless and terrified.

"Sic 'em, boy!"

"No!" Rachel shouted, and then Dean was screaming.

Deep gashes appeared on his chest. Blood flooded from the cuts. His back arched and he writhed, face contorted in agony. Then, his body flipped over. Claw marks raked down his back. Blood was everywhere and Rachel was screaming and Dean was crying out and Sam couldn't help it.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He couldn't find his center. But he started pushing. Started poking.

The power came with a rush. It started as a tingling in his toes then swept over him, taking his breath away.

Lilith stumbled back with the first wave. Her eyes snapped to Sam, going wide.

He inhaled deeply and held his breath. Pushed again.

Her eyes flickered. Light emanated from her, filling the room, shaking the furniture.

Rachel shrieked, sounding like she was in pain, but it flooded past Sam. Didn't even touch him.

He pushed again and the hold on him suddenly released. The light disappeared, and he fell to the floor.

"Stop," she said. She backed up a step.

"Let Dean go!"

"It's too late. He's dead!"

She was right. The screams had stopped. Dean lay lifeless on the floor.

This time, Sam didn't even have to try and tap into the power. It came rushing out of him, making everything tremble. It made his head spin.

Lilith laughed. "You're going to have to do better than that, Sam," she said.

He roared and focused all his energy and thought on her. Pushed all the power he could to Lilith's body, feeling her dark energy and shoving.

Her eyes flickered again. She pushed back, a white light filling the room once more. Then, she blinked, eyes flicking from white to black. Her head fell back, and she opened her mouth. Screamed.

Black smoke poured from her mouth. It hit the ceiling and then disappeared. The body hit the floor.

The room felt eerily silent without the combined forces of Lilith and Sam's power filling it. His ears echoed.

"Did you kill her?" Rachel asked, sobbing.

He turned.

She was at Dean's body. His head was cradled in her lap. Blood soaked her shirt and coated her hands as she stroked his face, tears falling on his empty face.

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Exorcise her?"

"No. I just sort of… pushed her. But I don't think she's gone." He came over. Knelt at Dean's side. "Dean…"

She grabbed him and held him, burying her face in his neck. They sat there, crying, for a long time.


	22. Chapter 22

The drive back home was a blur. Coming home was a blur. She didn't remember what was said or what was done. She knew that they put Dean's body in the garage, wrapped in a spare set of sheets. Ellen pushed her into a shower, where she mechanically washed the blood off her body and out of her hair. Nathan and Jo stayed in her room until she fell asleep.

During the night, Rachel dreamed. She was in her room, lying on the bed, and John was there. He lay beside her on the bed and held her tightly, not saying anything. Just holding her, spooning against her, keeping her safe.

"I'm sorry," she whispered when she felt herself waking up.

John's lips were warm on her cheek. "It wasn't your fault, little girl. Just remember your promise to Dean."

Rachel's body was still warm when she woke up.

* * *

Nathan carefully felt his way into the garage. "Sam?"

"Go away, Nathan."

He went towards Sam's voice. "You've been in here almost twelve hours. It's time to come in now." He found the table where they'd placed Dean's body. Walked around it until he found Sam. "Come on," he said, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"I can't leave him."

"He's dead. Nothing is going to hurt him anymore."

"It's my fault," he said, voice heavy. "If I'd been faster. If I'd been stronger."

"It isn't your fault."

Sam knocked Nathan's hand away. "You don't know what happened, Nathan! I used my powers! I used them against Lilith, and it almost worked. I hurt her, but I wasn't strong enough, wasn't focused enough, and Dean… Dean…"

"Shh." Nathan put his arms around Sam and held him, even when Sam tried to push him away. "It's okay, Sam." He stroked Sam's hair as he broke down sobbing.

"It's my fault."

"It's not your fault. You did everything you could."

"I should have listened to Ruby. I shouldn't have let you talk me out of learning how to use my powers."

"Your demon-given powers that you only have because you were force fed demon blood. Sam, that's not a good thing. And Lilith didn't kill Dean. A hellhound killed Dean. Even if you had killed Lilith…"

"You don't know…"

"No, I don't. But neither do you." He pulled back and stroked Sam's face, wiping away the wetness. "She changed the rules on us. Released the hellhound early."

"Because we went after her. If we had waited…"

"It would have been the same result. Sam, they wanted Dean in hell, and they wanted him there badly. Why do you think they only gave him a year? They need him there for whatever they're planning. Remember? They tried to use your father, but it didn't work, because they needed Dean. Nothing we did was going to change that."

"But why?"

Nathan shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe they just want him out of the way because you are more likely to say yes to being head of their army without him. Maybe there's something more. But, Sam, the war is coming and you cannot decide now to change your allegiance."

"I'm not."

"But you're thinking about using your powers. Again."

"Lilith isn't dead. I can kill her."

"Use the knife."

"Nathan."

"Please, Sam," he begged, feeling desperate. "Please, don't backslide on this. Don't start using your powers because we lost this battle. Because they are trying to manipulate you into doing just that." He grabbed Sam's head and pulled him down, resting their foreheads together. "We're at a low point. Don't give in."

He sighed. Rested his hands on Nathan's shoulders. "I don't… Nathan, you don't understand. My brother is dead. Lilith is out there. I need to make her pay."

Nathan let out a long sigh. He sagged against Sam. This was a really, really bad idea. But everything sucked now. His sister was a widow, his niece had lost her father, and his boyfriend was losing himself to grief.

There was only one thing to do to make sure he didn't lose Sam.

He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Okay, fine. We'll… we'll find out a way to kill Lilith. We'll use your powers."

"Nathan?"

"But we do this together," he insisted. "You don't do a thing without me. And if I ever feel like you're slipping or going too far over the edge, we stop. Got it?"

Sam grabbed Nathan. Hugged him so hard, he lifted him off his feet. "Thank you," he said, kissing Nathan over and over. "Thank you, thank you." He rested his forehead against Nathan. For a moment, he hesitated, then said, "But I need you to do something."

* * *

"You what?" Rachel shrieked.

"We took Dean's body," Nathan repeated. "Look, I know you wanted to burn it…"

"Dean wanted a hunter's burial! Sam knows that!" She jumped out of her chair and started to pace, phone pressed against her ear.

From their seats, Ellen and Jo watched her, opened mouthed.

"Sam's not in a good place right now…"

"And I am? I just lost my husband!"

"And he lost his brother. Because his brother sold his soul for him. Look!" Nathan raised his voice as Rachel started talking again, speaking over her. "I'm not exactly happy right now, either. But I said I'd support him in what he wanted to do. And he's convinced he can find a way to bring Dean back."

"Dean wanted us to go on with our lives."

"And you do that, Rach." Nathan's voice went soft and gentle. "You move on with your life and take care of Ashley. Let me and Sam… let us take some time to process this our own way."

She stopped pacing and glared at her reflection in the window. "Nathan. Bring Dean back now."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Rachel. Love you." The line went dead.

"Shit!" Rachel screamed. She threw her phone at the wall.

It bounced off and hit the floor, shattering.

In the other room, Ashley started crying

Jo awkwardly got up. "I'll just go take care of that."

"What happened?" Ellen asked.

"Sam and Nathan took Dean's body. I don't know where they went."

"But why?"

"Because Sam thinks he can bring Dean back. He'll need a body if he does that, so we can't burn it. He… he…" The strength flooded out of her. She sank into a chair and rested her head against the table. "I don't know what to do."

Ellen put her hand on Rachel's back. Rubbed gently. "Whatever it is, you won't face it alone, Rachel. Jo and I will stay as long as you need us to."

"Thanks. But I can't ask you to do that." She sat up. "There are still things out there that need to be killed. People who need to be protected."

She tucked a lock of hair behind Rachel's ear. "Family comes first, little girl. Remember that."

Jo came in with Ashley, who was squirming, red faced, in Jo's arms. "She won't stop crying. She doesn't need to be changed. Maybe she's hungry?"

"Maybe." Rachel took her and held her close. With a sigh, she looked down at the little face, scrunched up and screaming. "Or maybe," she said, an enormous well of sadness opening inside her. "Maybe she just misses her daddy."

Fin


End file.
